Chronic
Every week
The chronicle of Grégoire Delacourt
And now, after 44 chronicles for this last page, it marks the end of this magnificent odyssey. I hesitated for a long time to define the subject, then thought about drawing up the last list of my desires – like that of seeing, for example, finally awarding the Nobel Prize in Literature one of these four to Joyce Carol Oates; hoping for an electric car that could travel 1,000 km (with radio, air conditioning or heating, sometimes even vigorous and joyful acceleration); or that my friend D. gets rid of her cancer for good; that heaven exists so that my mother could be there; that we stop saying that something is worthless because it is successful and that everyone be, at least once in their life, touched by grace; that the words “polite”, “kindness” and “selfless” are no longer bad words; that the term “poor” disappears completely from dictionaries and the streets; let us all know that to love is also to make ourselves happy; that we love ourselves as we are, because we don’t care about the views of others; finally, let people come to power next spring who are more interested in their fellow men than in themselves.
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