Le passage à travers le portail spatio-temporel avait, semble-t-il affecté le chauffeur, qui depuis, n’avait pas vu défiler les années. Devenu vieux maintenant, on lui avait proposé, pour sa retraite, de devenir le gardien du musée de la compagnie de transport à laquelle, il avait consacré sa vie. Il lui semblait, certains jours, que le bus de ses aventures, resté miniature à la suite de sa dernière traversée, était devenu une sorte de reliquaire. Des visiteurs lui demandaient, si c'était bien lui sur les images encadrées au mur ; il leur répondait par un sourire. Parfois il sortait d’une de ses poches un saxophone miniature, qu’il manipulait comme le jouet d’un regret ancien, il aurait aimé savoir jouer correctement de la musique. Par bonheur, quand il se laissait aller à ses rêveries, il lui semblait entendre les mélodies à l’unisson de deux joueuses de flûte qui pour lui symboliseraient à jamais, l’espace et le temps de son imagination, le plus beau des véhicules. Merci pour votre visite et vos commentaires. Passing through the space-time portal had apparently affected the driver, who since then had not seen the years pass by. Now old, he was offered, for his retirement, to become the guardian of the museum of the transport company to which he had devoted his life. It seemed to him, certain days, that the bus of his adventures, remaining miniature following its last crossing, had become a sort of reliquary. Visitors asked him if it was really him in the framed pictures on the wall; he responded to them with a smile. Sometimes he would take a miniature saxophone out of one of his pockets, which he manipulated like a toy of an ancient regret; he would have liked to know how to play music correctly. Fortunately, when he indulged in his daydreams, he seemed to hear the melodies in unison of two flute players who for him would forever symbolize the space and time of his imagination, the most beautiful of vehicles. Thanks for your visit and your comments