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About Strasbourg

Sometimes I get riled up thinkin’ ‘bout it—folks lookin’ down their noses at ‘em, like they ain’t human. Makes my blood boil hotter than a skillet of cornbread! But then I get all mushy, too—imagine some lonely soul hirin’ an escort just to feel seen, like Jesse sayin’, “I feel like I’m running out of time.” Ain’t that a punch to the gut? I’d probly hire one myself if I weren’t so dang clumsy—trippin’ over my own boots, spillin’ sweet tea on their fancy getup. Lordy, I’m a mess!

Êtes-vous majeur ?

Finally, he makes it across, and I’m thinkin’, “Phew, that was close.” But then, outta nowhere, this dog runs past me, like a freakin’ rocket! It’s got a stick in its mouth, and it’s just zoomin’ down the street. I’m laughin’ so hard, I almost choke on my coffee. Like, who needs a gym when you got a dog like that?

Nobel Prize in Literature awarded to Annie Ernaux - a reading list