... Since my illness, I have had some real challenges. I perceive the rigorous succession of circumstances. I trespassed across the borders of my former life; I crossed the seas, left cities behind me, followed the course of rivers or plunged into the desert, always making my way toward other cities; I affronted death... I allowed other men to touch my body; I met men and women and listened to their stories; I stirred controversy and passions; and all that led me - where? To understand that to live is to be marked, to see life in the present tense. To live is to change, to acquire the words of a story and this is the only celebration, we, mortals really know. The words of a story. Still doubting..."Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before." (Edgar Allan Poe) Ondine's story is dedicated to all those men and women I will never meet in person, and whose lives collapsed on a beautiful day, condemned to an incurable illness. It is my hope that Ondine's story will be like a ray of sunshine, a pleasant interlude, in their daily wrestle. And when they feel depressed, defeated and overwhelmed by their fate, I would like to remind them that, for as little as we know with certitude, for wealthy or poor, for healthy or sick, for old or younger, for all of us, sooner or later, at the end of our journey through the space called Life, there it is, majestic in its implacable serenity, silently awaiting... the EXIT. The Author
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