Cosmos Page #3

One evening,

do you remember?

We were drifting in silence.

- What?

- The corner.

- What?

- What do you see?

Nothing.

This straight line behind the island

and the triangle close to the isthmus.

- Isth... what?

- Isthmus.

- Remind you of anything?

- No.

It looks like an arrow.

The offshoots are flakes from the damp.

This line, so straight.

It wasn't there when we arrived.

There was a spider...

A spider in your brain!

It looks like the arrow

in the dining room.

What dining room?

The one from just now, dammit.

Pointing through the ceiling.

I see a rake.

A rake, why not.

If it's an arrow, then it was carved

recently. I can smell it.

Smell, you? You're drenched

in this nauseating perfume.

Ralph and Lang. Monsieur Lucien

found it very good on me.

I'd remind you, sir, that "Nausea"

is a book that you recommended.

- No cat walks?

- Weather's bad.

- Not going out?

- No.

At least you'll stay in one piece.

Passing a threshold...

The two fishes. Why not three?

Oh my.

We forgot to close the kitchen door

and Mrs Woytis cannot stand noises

in the morning.

The day will be radiant.

Lena and Lucien are already...

at their house. To oversee the work.

Bom dia.

We could check

where your arrows are pointing.

They're not mine.

- And your sparrow?

- Not my sparrow!

Whose then?

I'm an expert in human passions.

A rake.

We need a rake.

I'll be right back.

Hold it.

Don't let go.

Got it.

Wood hanged -

one doesn't see that everyday.

Chance, the wind...

But the birdies sacrificed,

the sparrow put on show...

It moves me.

I will write it.

- Why?

- Someone is screwing with us.

- What if this was just a novel?

- Novel?

Hang a sparrow, draw arrows,

hang a piece of wood?

- Well, the rake took us somewhere.

- To a charade.

A leaning for symmetry,

a kind of confusing signal...

I'm looking better.

It's someone from the house.

The sparrow

reinforced by the piece of wood.

Now you've lost me.

A wacko, yes.

Oh no.

So much effort for such a refined joke?

How many unnoticed signs

in the natural order of things?

- Stupid jerk.

- You say? He says?

He's breathing.

- A swim?

- It's raining.

Rain, that? Ha!

A burn.

Tell me the story

of "The Red and Black".

You sure?

A burn

And Julien shoots Madame de Rnal

who he'd seduced

at the beginning, remember?

He kills her?

- He wounds her in a church.

- Why a church?

He was a seminarian.

Seminary, you know what it is?

Nah, not really.

That most important thing:

they cut off his head.

- That most important thing: love.

- A stupid title.

- And they cut off his head?

- Yes.

It adds spice.

Madame de...

That was a sweet film. Bresson.

Luc Bresson?

Ophls, Max.

The guillotine, a hanging, blood.

For your thriller...

- Really?

- A murder.

I'd love to act in a Pasolini film.

- "Theorem", seen it?

- Now you lost me.

The story of a stranger,

who visits a bourgeois family.

And?

He makes them all fall in love,

father, mother, son...

- Is that it?

- Oh no.

When he perverted them,

the young maid with whom he slept

levitates above the rooftops.

She what?

She levitates, you moron.

Like the saints do.

Hey guys, you know rugby?

Stop this, form a scrum.

- Catherette...

- Catherette what?

- Tonight we'll search.

- You think?

Leon told me she'll go to church,

then have lunch with her girlfriends,

play cards with them,

catch a movie

and return late.

To see what?

"Star Wars". The last episode.

How peculiar to call someone Catherette.

I'm afraid of the water.

I'm afraid of the water.

So imagine, Mr. Witold,

that one day we bumped into her,

me in my Sunday best,

fancy new hairdo, pedicure even.

Even Leon was stopped in his tracks.

And I tell it to her face...

Cold fish mayo, leek vinaigrette

for you!

Dumpling, are you all right?

So so. My dumplingette.

My word!

She is impenetrable,

elusive, immense like the ceiling...

Some fish?

Then I said to my Leon:

Don't be afraid. I'll take on

the ex mother-in-law.

Lucien's coming.

He's on the phone to his Russian.

Anything but this!

You think you can do

whatever you please?

Don't hurt Charlie!

- He's got a mouse!

- That's why he didn't get it.

- What?

- The fish! It makes sense.

Charlie is Lena's cat,

but Lucien is allergic to its hair.

Hello, hello.

We were living in Lyon at that time,

which wasn't good for his cholesterol.

He doesn't want anything old.

He wants something ultra modern.

I need

a piece of wood and string

to draw a circle accurately.

I've got a compass.

You can borrow it.

Y eah, thanks.

An architect's compass.

Very precise.

Come, ghost, show yourself.

that folds and unfolds

before my eyes

so this hypothesis is like a breeze

that rises a tornado,

like a spark that causes a fire.

The hand of the husband.

This courteous horror,

linked, unlinked, with her mitt...

For this woman, who knows,

she could grow to hate this man

with her irrelevance,

all her blanditude.

- Can you say "blanditude"?

- No idea.

- You're getting worse.

- Your black eye's healing.

Yeah, it's Catherette.

A slice of calf's liver.

The animal kingdom.

The cat and the mouse...

No reaction

when I mentioned the compass.

The Abyss and confusion, peas,

dumplings, toothpicks.

- Words, words, words.

- Shakespeare!

Even more severe.

Who wasn't at the meal?

- Catherette.

- See, I told you.

The order is being born before our eyes.

And the shape.

- Intellectual, your thriller!

- Sartre's "Words".

- About what?

- His childhood.

I never had a childhood.

Thanks to Leon,

we were able to tour the garden.

You feel good here?

Homely, I mean almost.

Father drank,

never knew my mother.

I grew up in the street.

I'll show you something.

- It points at what?

- Pieces of wood.

No, it points there.

See something?

See anything?

Help me.

Come!

- Look at the axe.

- Axe?

On the ground with the red handle.

- You saw it this morning?

- No.

- And the handle?

- A handle.

Angled like this?

What does it point to?

Catherette's room,

if you prolong it.

- Isn't she on the other side?

- It goes through the walls.

Look here, an imprint in the sawdust...

The blade was on the other side.

And there, these three pebbles,

and these few blades of grass,

and here, this clothes peg.

Someone makes a sort of rhyme

towards Catherette.

Shaped like a triangle

directed at the axe, to confirm the axe.

At this rate,

you'll have nothing to put on.

So your thriller, how's it going?

It vanishes in radishes.

Tonight I'm going into town, coming?

If I don't pass this exam,

my father will kill me.

- In your book...

- "The Haunted"?

- Who killed who?

- A father. His son.

- A who-who.

- A who-who!

I'm alone tonight

with my dreams

I'm so alone tonight

I treated myself to a nice jacket,

my revenge.

Dear friend, dear friend, just in time.

- Oh, bleurgh.

- Pardon?

Arnold. The dodeca-cacophony.

"Transfigured Night".

A variation... Sliding down...

Yes, Catherette, we know,

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