He wasn't there yet. He wasn't "at" beauty. But thanks to the yellowed pages of that digital file, he was finally moving in the right direction.
Usually, Antoine skimmed. He looked for the bolded text, the summary, the conclusion. But the PDF format forced a certain linearity. He couldn't easily flip to the end. He had to scroll, page by page, dragging the sidebar down, watching the percentage counter in the bottom left corner creep up: 12%, 15%, 22%. vers la beauté david foenkinos pdf
Antoine stood up from his desk. He walked to the window and pressed his hand against the cold glass. The rain had stopped. The city lights reflected on the wet pavement, turning the street below into a shimmering, fractured mosaic. It wasn't perfect. The traffic was gridlocked. A stray cat was digging through a bin. It was chaotic and messy. He wasn't there yet