Now, where was I? Oh, yes – I was telling you. For the past few days, I wanted – I needed – to talk to Mum about this girl I met at football – yup, there are girls who play football, and, yup, they can be pretty. Enough stereotyping. I was waiting for the right moment. Mum and I are shy about our feelings. Not the sort to wear our heart on our sleeve. We tend to keep things to ourselves. The right moment to talk to my mother is not on a weekday. She comes home from work exhausted and finds it hard to switch off her smartphone, always dealing with what she calls ‘emergencies’. I wonder what kind of emergency you have to cope with when you’re in charge of anti-dandruff shampoo.

Whatever. I said to myself that this ordinary morning on an ordinary weekend was the perfect time. I didn’t want Mum to get too carried away and imagine me already married, so I didn’t intend to make a big deal of it. An informal chat, casual, was all I wanted. So, when I went up to her and Mum brushed me away like a bramble on her path, I must say, I was fuming. Mum says I’m a bit hot-headed. I’m not too sure what that means – probably that I’m a pain. Or touchy. Or both. In my defence, as Granny Odette says, the apple never falls far from the tree, and Mum is especially touchy. I didn’t say she was a pain – you jumped to that conclusion, admit it.

So I snorted like a bull and shot off. I wanted to mess up her work call. It was Saturday morning; somehow, I had to get her to realize that it wasn’t a work day. I’m very aware that Mum stresses when she sees me vanish around a street corner. Consciously or not, she starts walking faster so as not to lose sight of me. So I shot off, I wanted to pass the corner of Rue des Récollets before her, then hide inside the entrance to Jardin Villemin, give her a bit of a scare and make her end her call.

I’m not quite sure what happened next. Well, yes, I think I understand; I’m not dumb. I was going too fast, for sure. I lost control. A really stupid mistake. I never lose control like that; I can handle my board. I looked up and saw the lorry coming. I heard the sound of a horn, then everything went black.

Total blackout.

Contrary to popular belief, I didn’t see my life flash by in a few tenths of a second, I just saw the headlights of that rotten lorry and I thought, Hey, that’s weird he’s got his headlights on in broad daylight.

Last thoughts are surprisingly mundane.

2

E.E.G.