9:23 p.m.,  Petite ceinture (ancient railway) Paris 13. I’m walking around the neighborhood looking for a place to dance. For six weeks With my foot injury, I have to be careful.At first, Idance in a courtyard. At the turn of an alley, I discover that a section of the railway is reopened to the public. The day begins to fall and the blue flowers that grow on the rails hold my attention. On the side, three teenagers chat and a man is playing the guitar. When I start dancing they are silent. The man continues to play. I dance three times, the guitar accompanies me. When I leave, I do not say anything to them, I am in a silent mood, I greet them with a small nod. While I’m at the entrance of the park, the man with the guitar joins me. He speaks in a very calm and friendly voice, he has an accent. He says, “What you did is completely awesome.” I thank him and tell him that I was well accompanied by the sound of his guitar. He answers that dancing in this place, with the buildings and all that, is incredible. I show him a few seconds of rushes and I explain that I have been doing this every day for more than four years. I’m not sure he understands what I’m saying. I ask him his name: Zadak, he answers, it’s a nickname.