No whisky for Mephisto
1. If you want, I tell you what east arrives with Mephisto and the whisky. Mephisto, it is my cat, and it is black, but black! Black like coal, black like the chagin, much blacker than the bottom of deepest of the hats, with a long tail recourbee, very heat and very soft. Sometimes, I am sad, I want to cry, Ca arrives. Then Mephisto jumps on my knees, then on the table. It pietine the drafting which demarre not, divisions which drown, the multiplications which are embourbent. It hums and the end of the nose of the end of the tail cherishes me, and Ca comforts me. Mephisto, it is surely a wizard deguise in cat. It has eyes scintillating like stars, a voice which goes up and d?cnd more quickly than that of a violin. It roves on the roofs gray and cold, silently crosses the night, renifle the rabbit in Cocotteminuite and hot milk in the pan... and it always guesses what I think. Me, it is Microbe. Hello! I have the cheuveux fair ones, the blue eyes, five freckles, not more, plus two on the nose, and of large troubles in calculation. Horrible troubles, with heaps of zeros. Trouble-calculations, trouble-nightmares... Heuresement, there are Miloud, my meuillor buddy, large, the flat tete of figures and a large bump of the math pluss that its tete. His/her father breaks streets with the power pick. They live on the same floor that us, the premiere carries on the right, right under the roofs, where same the staircase has evil to climb. Winters to catch cold a snowman, etes with dessecher a dragon. A room smaller than a coffee cup. Mom and me, one is opposite. Our room is smaller than small a culliere. I sleep by ground, and my toes scrape against the wall. Mom works at the restaurant of the ground floor, to wash the crockery and to rub by ground. Its owner is called Mr Felix; he is nice and, the evening, he lets me visit the pots, farfouiller the remainders, lecher the bottom of the dishes. Miloud adores to count and recount, withdraw, to add with cabbages, carrots and die taps of bath-tub. It helps me for my duties. But sometimes, the teacher declenche an atomic written interro. Then, catastrophe, I recolte a full basket of zeros. And Mephisto me c?nle. It jumps on my shoulder, rubs against my cheek, tells me nice stories, and I forget the problems, and my problems. A true wizard!
. Merci em Long
