I used to be the Giant Isoré . With time, my name became “Isouard” or “Issoire” and it was given to this street, Tombe-Issoire, where I disappeared one day, through underground quarries.
A kinder-garden has grown there since. The children wrote to me, in my flowery retreat, and invited me to visit them again.
So many things have changed… I look at the good people, the good people passing by, there... there... wonderful people who are alive.