A bunker with a nice view on the ocean.

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 ...

A view of the curtains of the roof of an art deco building 37 street of the Louvre. This building was built in 1934 by the architect Fernand Leroy and Jacques Cury to accommodate both newspapers Paris-Midi and Paris-Soir. Five years later, two million newspapers are coming out of the printing press in the basement of the building. The construction, modern, is fully planned for the implementation of newspapers. There is even a big diesel engine provided electricity in case of power failure. The upper floors are the most beautiful terraces where guests are received in peace, enjoying the magnificent view.
But like any business in the world war two who worked with german army, management changes hands for the release and communists newspapers took in commands: Ce Soir, Liberation, National Front (far left a newspaper) and humankind. Later Dawn and the Figaro will merge in 1985. It is said that some nights where humanity and the Figaro had printed, we brushed the confusion of pages.
This ship (as some people called the building) has been completely renovated from 2007 to 2008 and was included in the supplementary inventory of historical monuments. Some renovations are debatable but you can not stop progress.

The upper floor of the chapel. We see a tier railings has been thrown into the void. The degradation of the area is worrying the past two years ...

This tank is a false tank that served as a film set. She was left in place after the shooting.

Conservators of the cathedral sculptures have hidden up on the roof. You can not see the head of the soil.

Enjoying the sunset on the island. In the shadow, you can see the bridge, accessing the bunker of Capucins.

A place to see, in this huge quarry of Mery sur Oise!

I shoot this photography by 17°F (-8°C). You can see the frost on the top of the roof. It was slicing and i was scared!