By Jean-Baptiste Harang
Dans los angeles nuit du thirteen au 14 novembre 1983, entre Agen et Montauban, au lieu-dit Fourrier Six-Basses, un homme est mort. On l'a jeté vivant d'un teach en pleine vitesse, le 343 qui relie Bordeaux à Vintimille.
Cette nuit-là Rachid Abdou, un jeune Algérien, se rend à Marseille après trois jours de vacances, il rentre à Oran. Trois jeunes gens, en path pour Aubagne où il vont s'engager dans l. a. Légion Etrangère, l'agressent sauvagement, le poignardent et le jettent par los angeles portière. Crime raciste ? Violence gratuite ? Ivrognerie incontrôlée ?
Des faits à los angeles Cour d'Assises, Jean-Baptise Harang dit les dernières heures de l. a. victime, le passé des assassins, tout ce que l'on a su avant de juger, et les questions restées sans réponse :
Pourquoi ? Pourquoi trois jeunes gens qui ne se connaissent pas ont-ils lynché un inconnu de leur âge ? Pourquoi personne dans ce teach bondé n'est intervenu ? Pourquoi Rachid Abdou est-il mort ?
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Alice’s eyes immediately began to well with tears. That’s how those Gypsy “readers” do it. They tap into something pretty general and allow the mark to relate it to something deeply personal. When the mark has displayed his or her vulnerability—pow! “She wants you to be happy; to find a man to love you. And there is one who you used to love who will come back into your life and you must decide what to do about it. ” Alice shivered just perceptibly enough for her reaction to register with students of human behavior—like myself and Mala Sonia.
I guess the sheets should go in hot water, even though they’re florals. ” “I’m done,” chirped Talia, “so I think they’re all yours. ” Alice was so deep into her grieving zone that I don’t think she heard her. “When I opened the door to one of Gram’s clothes closets this morning, I couldn’t help falling apart all over again. ” She lifted a Qiana blouse in an appalling faux Pucci print of camel, mulberry, and beige from the pile of clothes I was planning to wash on the delicate cycle. “This is really pretty vile, but I swear to God, for a few moments there I started to find it the most beautiful thing in the world .
And I’d prefer that you got to school this morning safely, rather than almost got there. ” I turned to Alice, who was watching the row of machines launder her grandmother’s garments for the final time. Her face was a mask of sorrow. “Hey,” I murmured, placing my hands gently on her shoulders, “if you want to make an appointment to talk to me, to set up some counseling sessions, I’m here. ” “Thanks,” Alice said, blinking back tears. “My parents are in Florida, I don’t even have a boyfriend—although a while back I did meet a really cute guy who paid a house call to repair a piece of old furniture—and it’s not right to dump on my two best friends all the time.