08:05 a.m. Paris 6th. At the Senate entrance, on Vaugirard street, the policemen are not in a dancing mood. As soon as I arrive, two of them leave saying « well ! Good luck… ». Another man comes, he is serious : « Are you sure you’re ok? Can we help? ». I look at him as gently as possible (hands-heart energy), but he remains firm. The youngest, the one on guard, has a light smile, trying to desappear behind the barrier.