When I set out for school this morning, there was no way I could have imagined what I would experience. Actually, all that happened was that I lost—once more—one of the few things I have ever been certain about.

I was in a pretty good mood. First I unlocked my beloved bike—the one with those fantastic Eddy Merckx stickers. I had this silly song in my head, the one my roommate had just been humming in the kitchen—though there’s no need to comment on it here. And so, all bright and cheery, I took off to school.

That’s what I have done every day. For ten months now. I know the way by heart, every corner, every house, every crack in the bike path. It was a lovely spring day. But on this lovely spring day, after the curve, my bike suddenly took it to mind—of course without any advance warning—to hit pavement with its handlebars, forcing me to give a kind of involuntary aerial performance which ended very brutally on the road, my knees battered.

Basically it makes sense for me to ride my bike to school. In fact, I was experienced enough with bikes to be able to conclude that I knew how to ride and would, no doubt, arrive in one piece. Indeed, I had turned my experience almost into a rule—and this rule, into a kind of certainty. Though in a way I had known all along that it was exactly this which I should not have done.

Certainties are sometimes quite relative and to experience this can be extremely painful. Upon arriving here, I knew quite well: some things go without saying…

(Though I would like to add, angry and ashamed as I was, I have yet to get back on my bike—but I am here nonetheless and would very much like to stay here a bit longer. )

Idea, direction and animation: Perrine Marais; production: Franziska Specht; music and sound design: Rosely Maia