He didn't look closely at the piece of paper, but put it on the floor in front of him, with the white back up, and pushed it against his toes. The white edge disappeared under the toes, but he kept pushing it further - and exactly at the spot where skin and floor met - there was no resistance. The white plane continued further under the toes. Under the arch, the heel and out under the foot again. He jerked the paper a bit. Back and forth. No resistance. He then moved his other foot onto the paper so that he now was squat with both feet on the paper. He jerked the white sheet.
"Damn," he whispered and bit his lip. There was no doubt. He was hoovering above the floor.
"Damn," he whispered and bit his lip. There was no doubt. He was hoovering above the floor.
Novel
Published in France in 2001 by Gaïa Editions
Take a look at the French cover
Take a look at the French cover
here
