Midi à quatorze heures

The story opens on a breezy afternoon in Honfleur, a charming seaside town perched on a steep hill where the sky meets a slate‑gray sea. By the ruined lieutenancy and a lone chapel, a modest house clings to a garden of wildflowers, vines, and a solitary sorrel, while gulls wheel above the restless surf. The landscape is painted in sweeping strokes of mist, cloud and the distant flash of white‑sailed ships, giving a sense of both tranquility and hidden turbulence.

A hunter arrives at the door, greeted by a young woman in a striped skirt and black bodice, her hands tipped with violet‑hued rings. Inside, the rooms are a tangled collection of easels, canvases, a guitar, a cornet and a piano, hinting at a household where art and everyday life collide. The hunter’s lean, sun‑browned figure and the woman’s dreamy repose suggest a partnership poised between routine and the subtle stirrings of desire, inviting listeners to follow the quiet dramas that unfold in this coastal world.