He was a kid, three kids, hundred thousand kids in a gardenof Seine-Saint-Denis, for example. The kids are big now. They lost the garden of their childhood which a supermarket some estates and parking lots cover now. Some of them start writing, the others stealing, the others still doing nothing, some also not knowing any more how to hold on. How to find, to refind again the manners to hold on and to raise up against the wind, the new and ancient manners, which are maybe life itself, its rising dawn.