Back Wild Dog
Chapters (64)
  1. Cover
  2. Part I
  3. July 1914
  4. Spring 2017
  5. August 1914
  6. Spring 2017
  7. August 1914
  8. August 2017
  9. August 1914
  10. August 2017
  11. August 1914
  12. August 2017
  13. August 1914
  14. August 2017
  15. August 1914
  16. August 2017
  17. September 1914
  18. August 2017
  19. Part II
  20. September 1914
  21. August 2017
  22. September 1914
  23. August 2017
  24. September 1914
  25. August 2017
  26. September 1914
  27. August 2017
  28. October 1914
  29. August 2017
  30. October 1914
  31. August 2017
  32. October 1914
  33. August 2017
  34. October 1914
  35. August 2017
  36. October 1914
  37. August 2017
  38. May 1915
  39. August 2017
  40. May 1915
  41. August 2017
  42. May 1915
  43. August 2017
  44. Part III
  45. August 2017
  46. May 1915
  47. August 2017
  48. May 1915
  49. August 2017
  50. June 1915
  51. August 2017
  52. July 1915
  53. August 2017
  54. July 1915
  55. August 2017
  56. July 1915
  57. August 2017
  58. July 1915
  59. August 2017
  60. July 1915
  61. August 2017
  62. July 1915
  63. August 2017
  64. Epilogue

Her heart thudding, she was sure she would be able to surprise him but, in the event, it was she who jumped, because he appeared right there a few centimetres from her door. She had not heard him coming. He stared at her, saying nothing. She froze, then saw his face break into a wide smile. This man, this time, had come to her. After travelling for kilometres he had taken the last enormous step that brought him right inside the house. He had set off before dawn to be here at daybreak, and without a word he hugged her tightly to him. She had been thinking he had come to take the sheep, but it was she he took in his arms. He held her as feverishly as a tiger with an antelope, and it was with the same eagerness that he breathed in the scent of her hair. They found themselves there, together, elated; it was so unexpected and Joséphine was so overcome that she was robbed of breath. As she buried her face in the man’s neck, holding him as if she would have liked to disappear into him, she realised that he must have seen her already several days ago, that he must have been watching her. It was crazy how quickly bodies could change. She felt like a dry, forgotten river suddenly flooded by a storm, passing in a second from total aridity to great energy. Time stood still. The ewes were still enclosed. Not being able to spread out over the tempting meadow, they started to eat where they were. Nights here were so fresh that the grass became saturated with dew and in the morning it stood tall and green, blooming like the new day.

Wolfgang forgot everything; he forgot his precautions about perfume and that this evening his lions would not understand why he smelt of jasmine; he forgot that Joséphine was the wife of a man who was not long dead in combat. But as their hearts beat fast, melting into one another, it was Joséphine who was holding him close, to expel all thought and dislodge the protective hand of her husband, who, although dead, tried to keep hold of her … The penned ewes were restless and disturbed the dogs; all the animals wanted to get to the pastures that were being denied them this morning. The flock, tightly packed in their enclosure, wanted to frolic and run across the fields, whilst behind the door Joséphine and Wolfgang were passionately embracing.