This morning, Bordeaux woke up to shattered shop windows, twisted metal shutters and blackened façades. The images of yesterday's incidents are on a loop, and we watch them the way you'd look at a film set. Except it isn't a film set.
Behind every broken window, there's someone. A baker who opens at six every morning. A young couple who put all their savings into a little shop that opened two years ago. A restaurant owner who was only just keeping his head above water. Employees wondering whether they'll still have a job on Monday.
These are entrepreneurs' dreams smashed in a single night. Years of work, of loans, of weekends given up. Some of these businesses won't reopen. Not because they had no customers, but because they simply can't afford to absorb a blow like this.
Whatever the anger, nothing justifies attacking the people who bring our streets to life. These shopkeepers are our neighbours, the ones who give Bordeaux its face and its soul.
So in the days ahead, there's only one thing to do: go back. Push the door open, buy your bread, your book, your coffee there rather than anywhere else. It's the best answer we can give them.