CHRONICLE – He would no longer be mayor of this city that he had managed for twelve years. He had given everything. In vain.
He hadn’t appreciated it; oh no! Being dismissed by your voters like a common lackey of power. He who had only served noble causes. 344 votes apart. Barely enough to fill the Foirail, this cultural center that he inaugurated. Farewell to the gold of the Republic. He would no longer be mayor of this city that he had managed for twelve years. He had given everything. In vain. The ingratitude of the people; their versatility. Yet he had done nothing wrong; nothing good either, his adversaries claimed. But doing nothing, in politics, isn’t that the supreme rule for lasting.
He passed his hand over his cheek; he felt like he had been slapped. He smiled bitterly. He remembered that day when his popularity took a leap. The slap was him who gave it. It took place in a suburb of Strasbourg. A kid had tried to pick his pockets. He reacted like a man of the Ancien Régime: a white supremacist; definitely, he had had his day
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