Yvonne_3

Alors, voilà. J’allais dire machinalement: à tout de suite. J’en doute…

Mon chéri… mon beau chéri. Je suis forte. Dépêche-toi. Vas-y. Coupe! Coupe vite! Je t’aime, je t’aime, je t’aime, je t’aime… t’aime.

(Le récepteur tombe par terre.)

RIDEAU

Jean Cocteau, La voix humaine.

Say what you will about the world, Gerard Manley Hopkins, but Melbourne, this night, is charged with the grandeur only of Yvonne. I want to say that when she sings, there is nothing better; but the truth is, when she sings, there is nothing else.

[I know full well I’ve no right whatsoever to use the image above. So if you’re someone who’d like it removed, email me and I’ll obey tout de suite. Love and divadienst, you know, call for a bit of rule-breaking every now and then. ]

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