📖 Le voyagerur sans bagage

I'm not Jacques Renaud: I do not recognize anything here of what was to him. A moment, yes, listening to you speak, I am confused with it. I beg your pardon. But do you see a man without memory, an entire past is too heavy to take on at once. If you want to please me, not just to please me, do me good, you would allow me to return to the asylum. I planted lettuce, I cirais floors. The days passed ... But even after eighteen years - just another half of my life - they had failed, by adding each other to do that thing you call an all-consuming past.