You no longer count (Tu n'es plus rien!)

A quiet, introspective voice guides listeners through the hazy boundary between dream and memory, as a young woman awakens in a sun‑lit bedroom and instantly drifts back to a summer spent on the outskirts of Paris. The narrative unfolds like a reverie, blending the sensations of a lingering shock with vivid recollections of garden vistas, laughter‑filled gatherings, and the gentle pressure of an unseen hand urging her to recall what once seemed ordinary. Through her eyes we sense the delicate tension between present unease and the comforting, if nostalgic, rhythm of past days.

The story paints a portrait of a close‑knit circle of artists, musicians, and couples whose lives revolve around love, beauty, and the social expectations of the time. Their conversations about reserve officer duties, impending trainings, and carefree holidays hint at an undercurrent of change that threatens to disturb their harmonious world. Listeners will be drawn into this lyrical meditation on identity, memory, and the fragile peace that precedes a larger upheaval.