I would like to tell you of something that happened.
Out of the desert some people came.
They were afraid.
They never stopped being afraid.
The journey had been a long one.
Out here there is silence.
For days they waited for the man who walked into the desert.
I don't think they talked about him.
They didn't understand the desert.
Is it Othello?
I'm French -
- and I'm fed up with you sticking to my ass.
Once upon a time an old man was lost in the desert.
After several days he got so bored he was ripping his balls off.
So he got this crazy idea of staging King Lear in the middle -
- of this shit-hole of a desert.
At first, he asked the French chick to be in it -
- because the old retard got a hard on at the thought of her tight little ass.
Sadly, she turned him down ...
Seeing he'd blown his chances of screwing the intellectual -
- he decided to try his luck with the Yankee bitch.
The fat cow's immense joy was as great as her stupidity.
"Wow! Great! A real play!"
And maybe the old dickhead's idea wasn't so bad -
- because thanks to her pretty little ass he got to attract the other guys.
And there you go!
I can say they were afraid but they didn't hold each other.
They began to say words. Words made them forget.
For a while they went round and said words without talking to each other.
Henry listened.
They ate a bit less every day ...
Then they said words the rest of the time.
I don't know if the desert crept into their heads at night -
- but in the day it wasn't there.
Together they said words. They still didn't say them to each other.
Time had passed.
The time it takes.
For a while I didn't see the big man.
I didn't understand a word they said. Nor did they.
I think that Henry understood what they said.
From the desert came peace.
They didn't see everything.
I saw it all.
They are not here.
Now they are gone.