«There’s a passageway connecting Port Authority to Times Square – the Eight Avenue subways to the Seventh- and one morning when I looked up I saw a poem up in the eaves, sequential like the Burma Shave billboards : Overslept. So tired. It late, Get fired. Why bother? Why the pain? Just go home. Do it again. Something change then. I saw my life in scale : it was just my life. It was not momentous, and only now did I recognize that it had once seemed so to me; that was while my father was watching. I saw myself the way I’d seen the cleaning women in the building across the street. I was just one person in one window. Nobody was watching, except me. » Manuel de chasse et de pêche à l’usage des filles est un des livres dont je regrette le plus d’en avoir fait la lecture… si tard dans la vingtaine. Ce recueil de nouvelles de Melissa Bank, paru il y a déjà plusieurs années, raconte l’histoire d’une fille, puis d’une …