Adieu la rue des radiateurs – Nina

Writer Mathieu Riboulet read an excerpt from his work "Le Regard de la source" at home. In this passage emerges a portrait of a woman "neither a close friend nor a relative, but certainly a little like one and a little like the other": Nina. The words read aloud are careful and precious, evoking the woman's recent death and her friendship with the author. Then images from the past emerge, with the smooth, fragile texture of old video tapes, taking us back to yesterday and the past - the Moscow of twenty years ago - to a world that seems more irrevocably lost than ever . Writer Mathieu Riboulet read an excerpt from his work "Le Regard de la source" at home. In this passage emerges a portrait of a woman "neither a close friend nor a relative, but certainly a little like one and a little like the other": Nina. The words read aloud are careful and precious, evoking the woman's recent death and her friendship with the author. Then images from the past emerge, with the smooth, fragile texture of old video tapes, taking us back to yesterday and the past - the Moscow of twenty years ago - to a world that seems more irrevocably lost than ever . Writer Mathieu Riboulet read an excerpt from his work "Le Regard de la source" at home. In this passage emerges a portrait of a woman "neither a close friend nor a relative, but certainly a little like one and a little like the other": Nina. The words read aloud are careful and precious, evoking the woman's recent death and her friendship with the author. Then images from the past emerge, with the smooth, fragile texture of old video tapes, taking us back to yesterday and the past - the Moscow of twenty years ago - to a world that seems more irrevocably lost than ever . Writer Mathieu Riboulet read an excerpt from his work "Le Regard de la source" at home. In this passage emerges a portrait of a woman "neither a close friend nor a relative, but certainly a little like one and a little like the other": Nina. The words read aloud are careful and precious, evoking the woman's recent death and her friendship with the author. Then images from the past emerge, with the smooth, fragile texture of old video tapes, taking us back to yesterday and the past - the Moscow of twenty years ago - to a world that seems more irrevocably lost than ever .