Jean-Claude walks his dog in a neighborhood forever stuck in reconstruction. On his trip, he wonders about life, mortality, and 'what if' scenarios while remembering fragments from the direct impact of the second that almost cost him his life on August 4. At the moment of the explosion, the end of the world, bodies, buildings, roads, and cities may shatter. Perhaps the universe itself breaks apart. But the most severe fragmenting remains that of memory. A picture here and a sound there are vaguely reconstituted. Can a future be built from such a memory? Can it rebuild what was lost? Is it time to leave?

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