An intense, poignant first-person tale: "There is no pain in a kiss, only happiness turning against itself."

"This is the first penpal I ever had in my life. I was 13 ans, he was 16. I'll call him A. The year was 1958. He wasn't my first love. That was when I was 9. His name was A., but there are no words for what happened. Until recently. Ugly words. Nasty words. About a past that I was apparently the only one to have lived and known, but he denied as so many others have done, or simply forgotten."
Jean-Luc Hennig writes about love. Un amour ottoman is the distillation of all his love stories.