Millie Niss adapted her first text by rewriting it without using the letter ‘e’, a practice promoted by the Oulipo writers. The link above is to a PDF with both the original text and the e-less version. Here is the new text by itself:

Work stopping again, and it’s trains, aargh, said Mylinda, as if Paris traffic isn’t stop-and-go always? It is so awkward to look at angry union guys with signs pointing at you but all you want is an SNCF to go to Passy to buy farm food. All immigrants drunk on a cocktail of rums from Roumania, if that isn’t an oxymoron, Mylinda spat by a forlorn “Crachats Pas Ici” sign right by incoming train track postings. I ask, Mylinda’s brain said: now pink slips will hit all top pols, and not just Mr. PassBuck? Looking up at grimy windows on top of outgoing trains sign, Mylinda grunts. It was not as bad prior to national voting for a Right wing coalition again, and now, post-voting, transformation, schmansformation. Now, abruptly Mylinda was falling on a banana skin (that was what Mylinda will say to Baby about Mama’s concussion at la SNCF Nord, got by walking on an old but still damp Trojan), and cut a tibia in half, improving dusk hours of a group of laughing young striking union guys for whom Mylinda was almost as funny as last night’s ravioli ad, and how all night striking train guys say Big Boss did this and Big Pol did that and got mad and doubly mad, but as a sky graffiti aircraft was blazing by, with an ad for “Linguini For All,” guys thought, Omigod, a silly falling bitch can lift gravity off our brows much as a hook on a truck lifts a floor’s stairs off a hill of stairs, soon to add to suburban stacks of rising HLM housing blocks that poison our back yards with pot-smoking authors and sacrificing-ruminants-for-Id muslims, and all that crowd of sundry trash stuck down to official starvation status by gravity and a mass of rich folks pushing down from on top, much as a sack of spuds.