Death in the window

There’s no need to say, it’s surprising. As with all the streets in the neighborhood, shops are crowded at intersections to attract as many people as possible. Fruits, coffee, butchery, coffee, grocery, microbrewery beers, nothing abnormal and especially promising, because the shops are, for the most part, administered or owned by young people. The neighborhood is getting more and more bourgeois; the churches are getting tired of it because, like snakes, they are turning into baskets of condos.

The eye is therefore doubly attracted by this showcase of stuffed animals that sag a little under the dust. They seem to have been dead for a long time, mummified for the good memory, no doubt, of the owner of the place. The scene is intended to be rocky, or a junk garden of Eden. Anyway, what is most surprising is that it is the showcase of a barber. What if, in the back shop, the recalcitrant customers were embalmed? What if the hair of this little bird hadn’t been repaired by a wick of the lady?