Independentonsunday

Humbert se dit auteur. Dans sa jeunesse, sous le pseudonyme de Léonard Mantel il a écrit des poèmes, des nouvelles à l'eau de rose qui, publiées en recueil sous le titre A l'heure des cahiers sépias, connurent un petit succès. Grisé devant toute cette reconnaissance à laquelle il n'avait jamais eu le droit auparavant, Humbert se plongea dans l'écriture d'un roman, complètement raté, qu'il dédia à une personnalité littéraire du moment qu'il admirait, un certain Mr D. Ce dernier, ennuyé de se savoir aussi adulé par un écrivain du dimanche, ne prit pa

A cold wind was blowing in the valley. A few miles outside the city of Leeds, an army was gathering, ready to fight. A massive group of soldiers was standing by a huge fire, but it was still hard to determine how many they were. Suddenly, everybody stopped and started to acclaim the man who had just appeared, proudly parading on top of his tank. It was colonel Slaughter, famous for his bravery, but also for his cruelty in the last war, which had seen the North and the South tear apart. He looked determined, his cigarett stuck between his teeth, as he was thinking about an attack strategy. As he was staring at the crowd of soldiers, he thought