Chapter 7
MASCULISM (by Pauline Lavache)

I stopped writing after about a hundred pages or so.

Not writing would be my way of giving up cigarettes.

The will to write will be stronger than the will to smoke, I said.

Six weeks later I stopped smoking.

Only thing was, no longer smoking, I didn’t feel like writing either.

Months rolled by.

I no longer played in the band with Leon and Oliver because of the effect it had on my buzzing ears.

One time even, in August, I stopped drinking for a few days after a terrible bad hangover. I’d been drinking for three days on end, dawn till dusk. This hangover was not a headache or a feeling poorly, but a literal madness. It also brought my glandular fever back.

At work, I got promoted to Team Leader.

“But!” you say. “You already stopped smoking years ago when you were twenty three. Remember? The precise same moment you fell into a coma. And when you woke up twenty five years later, now forty eight years old, you were naturally by such time a confirmed non-smoker!”

There are so many things we don’t know.

But look. I’m writing again.

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