Oil on canvas – 9,45 x 11,81 inch – Unique work

Geneviève, Thérèse and Marie grew up together in the same neighborhood. You could almost say that they are childhood friends. They attended the same kindergarten, the same high school and … each one followed its own fate, its own way, its own daily routine.

Geneviève had to leave high school prematurely, her father died following a firedamp. A certain death sentence, no survivor. Her weak mother was unable to provide a decent childhood for her four children. Therefore her eldest girl sacrificed herself to join a peculiar house, held by a strict, ruthless old lady and a whole bunch of men who came to enjoy life. Well, that’s their point of view. Geneviève, meanwhile, tries to survive.

Thérèse, the youngest of a very highly regarded middle-class family, had no better luck either. While her parents are hosting a distant uncle to help out, the unthinkable has crossed the threshold of this house. Thérèse left high school earlier that day, a missing teacher. When she returns back home, surprisingly her mother is not there, neither are her brothers and sisters. She thinks she is alone, she welcomes that idea. Except that … suddenly, in the doorway of the kitchen door, the uncle shows up. This dirty, disgusting individual who only has vicious looks on her. She tries to run away, to run towards the front door … Too late, he grabs her and the horror strikes.

Marie, sweet Marie, naive Marie. Hurriedly married, after a teenage night of love, she devoted herself to her husband, her house, her first child at first. Then others were born. Her husband comes home late, very late, too late. There is a pungent smell from him, excessive redness of the face, imprecise and abrupt gestures towards her. He is a drinker. It’s daily now. Verbal abuse becomes physical. The blows fly on the frail body and the transparent face of Marie.

One Sunday, while the storm is raging in the provincial city, quite by chance, or not, Geneviève, Thérèse and Marie find themselves next to an angel holding a cup of fine gold on his knees. A light coming from nowhere illuminates the figure, time has suspended its flight. Yes, for sure, they saw the wings of hope.