You came from Brussels. You lived with keys, keys to my places, keys to other’s places. Of course, you are the detective; there are no locks for you.
Let me tell you how you died- It started with an arm amputation. Herge said to me “This wasn’t good, Jasmine, take better care of him”. Then I found a fake leg in the cupboard- prosthesis. But you hadn’t lost a leg- you lost an arm. You could never become a ‘slow man’. Your fox terrier- Snowy and you had to run together. You could never be the one feeling like you were dragging a weight.
And then there was the more grotesque death in store for you. What was worse was me dragging you around even after you died. I dragged your weight around. I didn’t feel the weight of you around my shoulders like an albatross but I smelt the weight of it.
I thought I will put you to rest for so many days Tintin. Herge died too. Herge quoted like Flaubert - I am Madame Bovary-I am Tintin, only I can be Tintin. I can be Tintin, hence Tintin exists.
You even made a big tantrum before I put you to rest. You disappeared, you reached the authorities in uniforms but they turned you over to me. Where were you trying to leave unfinished?
Did you leave like Herge left Tintin and Alph Art?