One of the many leaflets Claustrophile long to read.

I feel lonely. Sitting on the edge of a puddle, waiting night after night came from an image, even furtive, which will warm my frozen heart. Boredom is deadly but I am perhaps more myself.
I do not control my movements. It seems I am doomed to remain motionless near the puddle. I can sit there, going to bed at the top in every sense, to slip under the surface. But I can not go away. Several weeks have passed already, maybe more. I lost track of time. I also lost touch and smell.

It all began one evening in July, right here. I rode north through here. I walked into the puddle and I did not immediately understood what was abnormal about it opposed the reaction to my muddy boots. In retracing my steps that I understood, without understanding anything beyond. The water that I had defiled was perfectly clear! I did another test, stirring the surface with my dirty soles. But water does not disturb and do not wash my boot. Worse, it penetrated the boot but no step had resulted. I started to jump in with both feet, there was no splash. I thought mad.
I think when I last had committed error in allowing my curiosity until that train was going to lose. I squatted and I plunged his hand into the water. I could see through transparency, I felt the cold touch and wet. But the water do not wobble. If I was raising in my palm and I let her run, she immediately incorporated the puddle remained perfectly motionless. I was scared.
But after a few minutes I emerged reflects a man who looked at me. I was scared to see it without having heard it, but it was nothing of the horror that awaited me next. Because when I turned around there was nobody behind me. This man existed only in reflection. And only in this puddle. I saw him once. It was already too late.
I was terrified. The stranger in the mirror and spoke agitated, as if trying to tell me something. But he remained silent to my ears. I panicked. I wanted to run but I was so scared I did not notice the sky of the quarry. I myself am hit with unprecedented violence. I think the shock was fatal.
Where I felt back up, I saw myself lying with his head in a puddle of blood flowing to the puddle of water. But when I looked at the puddle that is me that I could not see. I had no reflection.
The body was lying nearby was finally identified but it was not mine wearing my clothing and my backpack.
It was the man I saw in the reflection! He set off again in flesh and blood, for me, leaving me alone and trapped in my fate! I could not even follow him, as if the puddle of water had been magnetized. Since I am still waiting in the darkness, someone realizes that the puddle is still ...

Maybe you than I expected. You who picked up this pamphlet, a little better scans the surface of the water ...

The underground chapel of the quarry of Chauffours, carved into the wall, to honor the fallen soldiers during the First World War. There is also a wonderful fresco on the right.

High on the right side, a small area with beautiful pillars.

You can't see it, but there is a little stairs on the right, on the roof.

Photography by Neron / From left to right: Tim, Néron, Roudoudou, Yann

The empty tower at the back on the right helps to support the main church structure.

From left to right:
- The dome of the observatory of the Sorbonne. In the dark.
- The dome of the chapel of Sainte-Ursule de la Sorbonne.
- The dome of the Pantheon in Paris.

Extraction of the Stone follows the geological slope. At the bottom of the galleries, a flat corridor allows to evacuate materials by truck. On the right, a horizontal corridor connects two superimposed levels.