Photographs by Cyril Delettre , Novel by Marie-Florence Gros
DOG walks with Master.
Their everyday walks give him many occasions to capture the life of the city. With iPhone, Master shoots, talks, while DOG thinks.
DOG tries to attract his attention, wonders about iPhone who talks to Master, and concludes that Phone (Fung) is in fact the master of his master.
DOG decides to address Fung.
My name is Dog.
I am a French dog, watching the sea. So excuse my English. Master obeys me sometimes, when I want to go out, but I take second place in his life. Actually, Master acts as the dog of his master, you, Fung. Hi ! Fung – English people would say iPhone. When Master has problems, he calls you, Fung. When he has joy, he calls you, Fung. And by calling you, Fung, the Big master, the master of Master, makes Master happy or sad.
Who keeps who on a leash? Each time he takes me out, he calls you, Fung, he speaks to you, Fung, he laughs to you, Fung, he kisses you, Fung, he prays to you, Fung. I need to talk about that. I need to talk to somebody! Human beings pay to talk. I would pay for it, like anybody else. Previously, some human beings paid others to listen to them silently. Nowadays, all of them pay. They pay you, Fung.
I will talk to you, Fung, myself. The master of the Master can be my Grand-Master
Hi! Fung. Please make my beloved Master deaf, so that he dedicates himself to me. Blinding him too… that could also help.
I am the French dog again. Let me remind you, as you have so many voices calling.
Master has stopped in front of the Bay. I am watching the boats. I am a poet pet. I also do not have much to do while Master is watching you, only you, Fung. He is anxious for you to vibrate. He touches you with his fingers, nervously, he does not see the boats, he does not see the clouds, a smile comes on his face when you ring him and he begins to speak to you. And then you speak to him with your sweet female voice. This specific voice of yours makes him blurry. He takes a picture of the boat, he sends it to you. You laugh. Real life does not touch him, You, Fung, filter the voice and images. Master smiles to the screen, he has forgotten me.
The ferry boat has docked, what is that good smell in the air ? A blond bulldog passing by. Let’s walk, let’s follow her, why do you hold me so tight? I should pee on his pants, my real pee on his real pants. She’s gone.
Master is admiring you, Fung. How can he be so attracted to a voice with no smell?
Hi! Fung. Please give my Master a nose.
Master is walking by the wall, and the wall is watching him.
He talks to you, the female voice of Fung.
The wall is watching him, are those eyes your eyes, Fung?
I do not want the wall to watch me. I want some privacy to scratch my ears and leave my perfumed gifts on the tarmac. But Master stops here.
Who is the voice speaking through Fung? Is it the voice of the wall?
Who are you? Babel box, Guanyin, or Virgil's thousand tongues goddess? You are watching me from the wall but your multiplied mouth is in the box?
Big Brother’s spare parts?
Then I smell HER.
This wall watching me just like a human being smells like the blond bulldog I met the other day. This big nose smells her furry flesh.
Hi! Fung. Please give me the blond bulldog back (but in one piece).