The Suicide Shop

Lucrèce, Marilyn, Mishima, Vincent … All of

away the poisons that fell onto the floor the previous day, and wonders out loud: ‘Won-won-won, won-won-won?’

Mishima turns off the news on the radio. ‘What are you saying?’

His wife unfastens some straps and removes the filtration cartridge from her mask. ‘What are we going to do with Marilyn? Either she goes on as if nothing has happened or she stops. I won’t hide the fact that I would regard that as a

almost faces his sister. Oh, the piercing power of his gaze, the ravaged radiance of his anguished eyes beneath his head bandages! Outside in the darkness, through the panes of his sombre room’s small window, a neon advertising sign suddenly dazzles him with a crazy intense yellow light. Then the shadows of his face become a very pale green and his short, now pink, beard seems painted by brushstrokes arranged in a

hidden by her hair, while her mother exclaims in surprise: ‘Why have you drawn her so busy and pretty, when you know very well she always says she’s useless and ugly?’

‘I think she’th beautiful.’

Marilyn claps her hands to her ears, leaps off the stool and runs to the back of the shop screaming as she climbs the stairs leading to the apartment.

‘There, now he’s made his sister cry!’ yells Mar‍

A trapdoor in the floor opens like a mouth and, tongue-like, a bald pate pops out.

‘What? What’s going on?’

Mishima Tuvache emerges from the cellar carrying a sack of cement, which he sets down on the tiled floor while his wife says: ‘This customer claims Alan is smiling.’

‘What are you talking about, Lucrèce?’

Dusting a little cement powder from his sleeves, he too goes up to the baby, and gives him a long, doubtful look before offering his diagnosis:

. Although her deathly eyes, dark and doleful, are veiled with cataracts she is sure of what she is seeing:
‘But he does look as if he’s smiling.’

Although her deathly eyes, dark and doleful, are veiled with cataracts she is sure of what she is seeing:
‘But he does look as if he’s smiling.’

‘Aw … I always get the skivvy’s jobs; I’m useless around here! Why don’t the boys go?’

Tristan and Isolde

a biodegradable carrier bag