2024-04-06 18:52:33
That day, she didn’t eat anything. In the caravan rocked by the last rays of winter, Ludivine sips a coffee and nervously puffs on a cigarette. A text to his mother: “I’m bored.“Since she stopped taking methadone (a heroin substitute, editor’s note), the thirty-year-old has found it a long time.”When I took it, I mightn’t get out of bed before noon. Now I’m up at 8 a.m.” Contained in 10 m², it leads a marginal life with basic comfort. A bed, a gas stove, the wood stove which overheats. The conduit has been blocked with a sheet of aluminum foil: you suffocate there, you have to open the window.
His mother, Marilyne, lends him this piece of land, on a hillside, between cork oaks and vineyards, behind Mont Ventoux: a crutch, to prevent him from sinking. “At first, she lived with me. But it was unmanageable. She wasn’t working. She wasn’t sleeping. She sneakily stole wine and cigarettes from me.“
1712457338
#Drôme #cry #mother #drug #addict