Sandra Moussempès, p.2
THE HOT WATER BOWL HAS FALLEN
The man bends down, he is cold.
The lamp rekindles. Trembling lightly.
He strokes the cold hand of a little girl with lavender cheeks.
Behind her ear, hair won’t grow back.
Three ceramic fragments have fallen to the ground.
He collects them and wipes the floor with a sponge. (Light once again comes into the room.)
He rinses it several times.
Black water flows into the sink.
The man bends down, he is cold.
The lamp rekindles. Trembling lightly.
He strokes the cold hand of a little girl with lavender cheeks.
Behind her ear, hair won’t grow back.
Three ceramic fragments have fallen to the ground.
He collects them and wipes the floor with a sponge. (Light once again comes into the room.)
He rinses it several times.
Black water flows into the sink.