Incipit

I am a Dog. A yellow dog smitten by tenderness and absolutely consenting to life, without refusal or mistrust. For years have I kept the framed portrait of such a dog hanging on the wall of my bedroom. Then, I welcomed it into my house. Before finally becoming that dog.

Back cover

A woman made up her mind to leave Paris with her family and to settle in a village in the South of France. The following winter, she collapsed. The cold seeps to the marrow of her bones. Till freezing the hollow palms of her shivering hands. The mirror no longer reflects her face, but echoes shards of sheet metal back to her instead. Is it possible to come back from that distant land?