There’s this guy on my phone, in a gray trench coat and a speckled waistcoat, from He dances alone in front of a light wooden coffin A picture of a smiling woman. Thumbs, accustomed to the nervous shaking of videos, pauses in amazement. The man who dances is called Stéphane was Agnès Lassalle’s partner, the woman pictured, the Spanish teacher was stabbed in the heart by a student who said he heard the voices in his head. We are in a churchyard in Biarritz, the funeral has just ended, and the coffin containing the body of a ridiculous crime victim is about to be swallowed up by hearts, when instead of rage, music starts playing. “love” By Nat King Cole, in the French version.

Stéphane and Anaïs had met on the dance floor already at the age of forty, and together they made a new beginning. “Love” was their song. Stefan dances gently around the coffin with his arms outstretched, as if full of it. Friends watch the scene until they decide to be a part of it. A gray-haired man with red hair begins to spin, another couple joins in, then two women and two boys: it seems he is on a set where a wedding is being filmed. In the center of the picture, Stefan and the ghost of Agnes, with their perfect steps, shared who knows how many times in life. I have never felt such a desire to dance.

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