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I
often travel around France ; when I am in the hinterland,
I love stopping in one of those bistros, in little villages
; they are the true and only places where citizens share
their feelings.
Post-Offices are being closed down, no young zealots
go to church these days, shops are mobile now, markets
are getting super; the bistro is the only place to go
now, when there is one left.
This is where I usually meet old but nevertheless ageless
bachelors (why old ? because these people's furrowed
faces do not change anymore after the age of thirty-five).
No one can tell if they have taken early retirement
or if they have never worked since the days of their
national service, they are a bit gruff, very wary but
charming too because one can see something special in
their eyes: loneliness.
The only person they share their feelings with is the
owner of the bistro.
After a few millions glasses of red wine, a real bond
exists between them, giving the loner a reason to live.
At night, when he gets home, alone in his empty house,
the loner will think about the conversation he has had
with the only person he confides in. This is a good
therapy, for he will do that again tomorrow. If I were
our minister of Health, I would subsidise those bistros,
because they should be treated as directed to the public
benefit.
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