Transcription
There was in our town a hair salon located in a quiet neighborhood, a salon in which only men were styled, and which was run by a very beautiful Alsatian woman, the beautiful Madame. There was almost never anyone in her salon. It was not necessary to make an appointment. She did not have a husband. She undoubtedly had many lovers. I liked to go to her place.
[Music] Pushing the door, an amazing smell invaded my nostrils, a mixture of lotion, hairspray, rosewater, shampoo, a smell of intoxication. But the most extraordinary smell was the smell of Madame Cheffer herself. This woman was red-haired. She had a rather strong body odor, which perhaps bothered some clients, but which, for me, [Music] intoxicated me. It was as if her whole body smelled of love. I adored that.
"What am I going to cut for you?" "It's my mother. She likes me to have very short hair." The shampooing moment was already a delight. Madame Cheffer, leaning over me, her chest almost brushing my face, and that smell, which I savored by taking long, silent breaths. In the evening, in my bed, I still breathed it with the likely desire to take her in my arms.
"So, how is school? Still a good student? You're lucky. I didn't like school. I hated it. It's loneliness." One day in June 47, before our departure on vacation, something happened that I was to remember all my life. It was very hot. She smelled even better.