THE LOST BALL

Summer 1914. The shadow of war lingers in the distance, but here, on the peaceful banks of the Seine, youth still dances. At the Estaminet, laughter rings out, skirts twirl, glasses clink. They talk of love, of the future, of a world that seems unshakable.

Then comes July 31st. A piece of news falls, a cry rises. The music stops, frozen bodies exchange glances, breath held. Innocence shatters in an instant. Tomorrow, they will no longer be dancers but soldiers. The Seine will keep flowing, but they will never be the same again.

WILD AIRS

Summer 2023. A sloping street, a playground. Six of them, boards beneath their feet, free, untouchable. The pavement hums under their wheels, laughter bursts out, the sun bronzes their skin. Every jump, every fall, every victory tastes like eternity.

Then comes the day when everything shifts. Screeching tires, a crash, a heavy silence. Nothing moves. A name is called, in vain. The moment before no longer exists. Adrenaline gives way to absence. The street remains, but they will never be the same again.