Chapters (64)
- Cover
- Part I
- July 1914
- Spring 2017
- August 1914
- Spring 2017
- August 1914
- August 2017
- August 1914
- August 2017
- August 1914
- August 2017
- August 1914
- August 2017
- August 1914
- August 2017
- September 1914
- August 2017
- Part II
- September 1914
- August 2017
- September 1914
- August 2017
- September 1914
- August 2017
- September 1914
- August 2017
- October 1914
- August 2017
- October 1914
- August 2017
- October 1914
- August 2017
- October 1914
- August 2017
- October 1914
- August 2017
- May 1915
- August 2017
- May 1915
- August 2017
- May 1915
- August 2017
- Part III
- August 2017
- May 1915
- August 2017
- May 1915
- August 2017
- June 1915
- August 2017
- July 1915
- August 2017
- July 1915
- August 2017
- July 1915
- August 2017
- July 1915
- August 2017
- July 1915
- August 2017
- July 1915
- August 2017
- Epilogue
It was hot, too hot in fact, but Franck wanted to try playing with it properly; maybe that was what the animal expected. He stood up, walked in front of the house a bit, then decided to go in the direction of the large water tank that was well shaded amidst all that greenery. He didn’t need to say a word for the dog to get up and follow him, watchful and alert, ears cocked and no longer affected by the heat. Franck spotted some cones on the tall cypresses, dense, compact balls that fitted nicely in his hand. He picked one off and felt its weight bouncing it in his palm while watching to see how the dog would react. The animal stared him dead in the eye with a piercing gaze, and then, without warning, Franck took aim and threw the projectile as hard and as far as he could towards the slope. He threw it so hard that he hurt his shoulder; the cone flew through the air and rolled on and on, like a tennis ball. The dog paused, glanced at Franck, then at the slope, and suddenly shot off despite the heat of the sun. Taking to the game with surprising alacrity, it threw itself down the hill after the makeshift ball, running so fast it left a cloud of dust in its wake. The ball carried on rolling and had travelled more than a hundred metres by the time the dog reached it. Its nose collided with it, sending the cone flying for a few metres. The dog caught it in one swift movement when it bounced one more time, snaring it firmly between its teeth. Far in the distance, it stopped dead and turned back towards Franck.
‘Bring it here … Come here!’
As if it had been waiting for this instruction, the dog came running back towards him immediately with the cone in its mouth, even though it must have been exhausted from going up the hill in this heat. But once at his feet, it didn’t want to let go of the cone. Franck tried to pull it from its mouth, but the dog was growling and made a sharp movement, freeing itself from his grip with a jerk of its head so violent that Franck nearly lost his balance.
‘Whoa, gently. Gently … Come on, give it to me. Give me the ball!’