The child approaches the window at this uncertain hour, this hour in between. She leans her forehead against the glass, and looks at the night which settles on the horizon, at the end of the street. The points of light come alive outside and resist the distance. The inner silence settles in as in a fleeting parenthesis while the curtain falls on the day. She is alone in the apartment which plunges into darkness. No one other than fear, barely domesticated, which suddenly grows. She feels the fangs of the evening glistening in the dark, the hour between dog and wolf. Melancholy of the blue hour, which will never really leave her. She brings her eye closer to the lens, to capture the moment, the blue of the heavy veil that spreads over the city, which runs along the end of the landscape at the same time as the car. The trees are shaking. She photographs the a little dreaded moment to appease its poisonous beauty, the hour when her thoughts fly away. The artist hands us his blue snapshots and asks us: Where are you between day and night? Where does your soul hang when the evening dizziness comes?
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