Mathias Malzieu

28 December 2021  |  Culture

A book for Christmas - "Le Plus Petit Baiser Jamais Recensé"

Chapter 1

The girl who disappears when you kiss her.

The smallest kiss ever. One thousandth of a second, pulp and down included. Barely a touch, an origami. A sketch of a short circuit. A humidity level incredibly close to zero, something in the order of shadow dust. The smallest kiss ever.

We weren't really looking at each other. We didn't really touch each other, we hardly said anything to each other. His eyes too large on her porcelain skin, and that weird way of apologizing for a smile. His lips, which fluttered like a snowflake lost on a summer beach, and me, trying to retrieve it with my oversized ice-cooler. A cataclysm disguised as a miniature kiss. More powerful than an army of lightning strikes. The smallest ever. Light impact and then nothing.


Passed from one instant to the next from appearance to disappearance. As if her mouth was a magical bodily switch that could make her volatilize. All that remained was the asthmatic melody in D minor, whistled by his tiny lungs.

Then I heard his footsteps move away, until I could no longer hear them. She had therefore not disappeared, she had become invisible. We had exchanged the smallest kiss ever recorded and she was instantly invisible, as sharp as a power cut. I had to find her. If only to complete my collection, currently limited to a single copy, of the smallest kisses never recorded.

Share this article


Hugh Atkins

Co-founder of Pure France. 20 years of visiting and photographing fabulous properties, meeting fascinating people and driving every main and back road in France.

See more from Hugh Atkins

Where in France


Open on Google maps

Villas & Châteaux in France

 Find your perfect French holiday home...

© Pure France.™ All rights reserved.

Choose language