“It was a Saturday, April 11th, around 7pm.
I was with friends. We had a coffee next to Ranelagh in the 16th arrondissement.
We took the metro to meet another friend.
Because of three little seconds of daydreaming, I almost died.
When I opened my eyes, I was on the road, spread onto the ground.
I got up, stunned and shocked.
I sat down next to a tree.
A man approached me and asked me if I was okay.
I told him “Yes, everything is fine.”
And he showed me a car, his.
The windshield was cracked everywhere.

It was a little Citroen Picasso. Anyways…
I realized that it crashed into me.
And because of shock and adrenaline, I didn’t feel any physical pain.
A young woman jogging called the ambulance.
I was taken to Pompidou Hospital.
Hours passed. I had a bad left leg and skull.
After a ton of examination and and four staples in my skull,
I found myself in a waiting room, waiting for another exam.
I called my mother, and asked her to come and get me.
Before she arrived, I collapsed into tears.
This whole event brought me back to being me…I had been feeling out of touch…
I wanted to talk to someone. Then, I gradually became myself again.

I get sad in the world, from time to time. But so far so good.
The main thing is that I am alive.

We have one life, and I failed to lose it. And I’m now more careful when I cross the street.

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

After all this, I think life is precious.
It is the most precious thing that exists in the world.
I want to live and go after my dreams. And I think I’ll bite.
Life is a great mouthful. At least more than it was before.

Thank you very much for reading this little passage.
Enjoy life and, above all, only cross a street when the little guy is green! “