| Anthology of the short story from
Maghreb extract from the short story "She" |
| She walked with a firm step, her heels echoing on the tarmac at a military pace. The whole of her energy was concentrated on this pace that she tried to keep up, despite the people walking on the pavement, coming down on the road, by passing parked cars when she was facing an obstacle, crossing streets despite the lights being green. She was desperately holding on the deaf sound she was making on each step; she knew that if she lost the pace, if she slowed down just a little, she would go back. She took her decision a month ago, and she had been fighting it for thirty days. With her whole body, her whole soul. But her decision, like all the ones she takes after mature reflection, was with no appeal. She had concluded, coldly, with lucidity, and from then on, there was no return. She will go there, accomplish why she came for, with no feeling. She had decided. .
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