The Dedalus Book Of French Horror: The 19th Century - Plot & Excerpts
– It’s a tic, a mannerism that I’ve been left with ever since my misadventure. What misadventure? Ah! That’s right. I didn’t tell you that I’d been hanged. Yes, hanged … It’s to do with the fact that I’ve never been lucky. Look! When I was a kid, I’d be given pieces of bread which were either buttered or had jam on – that would depend on the time of day. Well, you see! I would always drop my piece of bread on the ground, and it would always fall on the wrong side, or the right side rather (the side with the butter or the jam on it), and there was always dust on the ground! All that points to my being unlucky. Tic. And then? Well so it went on. At school, I was promised third prize in gymnastics. (I’d never won a prize.) To work for my prize, one night I leave the dormitory and go down a drainpipe into the gymnastics yard and start working on the trapeze. I try to do a somersault and, whoops, I fall on my belly (like my slices of bread).
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