Français
It’s still the middle of the night, I’m up in the garden gazing at the milky way, dreaming of fishign days. It’s so hot it’s not even funny, the rivers are almost dry, the fish is spooky and we’re better not anoying them. In a way I don’t know what to do with myself, then my computer made this very special sound when a mail comes in, usely I don’t care but this night, I had the feeling I needed to check it out. Bingo! There it was, the latest issue of Southern Culture On the Fly! Burning hot, I couldn’t take my eyes out of it, I read it through the night, when I stopped, my face was covered with salt, I had scales on my hands, my shirt was wet from sweat and salted water, it was magical, the sun was rising over the moutains. Read it! 
