Beside the Sea by Veronique Olmi

I was dazzled, like when the sun’s too bright, but the sun had abandoned that town long ago.
    My heart felt all heavy and full, sort of thick, every beat hurt, it was full of blood, keeping hold of it and not letting it out any more, my hands and mouth started tingling, the manager seemed to be talking to me, I could hear but it sounded so far away, there were tons of cotton wool between us, it absorbed everything, every word and even the air, I was short of air, I hadn’t brought my pills.
    I had to hang on to something, an idea, an image, something to get me out of this, I was a wonky machine, jumping in every direction, little twitches, nerves waking up with a jolt around my eyes, my hands, my lips, they moved on their own, twisting for no reason, turning inwards and biting themselves all on their own, the man shook my shoulder and then it came. In fits and starts. A bit at a time. But it came. I honestly believe that’s what saved me. Tears, moaning, more tears, little yelps, Icouldn’t do anything to stop all that. The manager backed away quickly and left, maybe he was frightened I’d splatter him. Well, fine. I’d rather be left in peace, unhappiness is never a pretty sight.
    I let my rickety machine run its course and, gradually , everything went back in to place. I was spent, I’d been beaten and battered every which way. I stayed in that chair for a while, to recover: my heart, my nerves, my muscles, it all had to start up again gently, without bumping into anything, without going mad, calmly, and back to normal. A huge sigh came out of my chest, one final misfire, and I knew I could set off again. I stood up, pushing off against the chair, my head was still spinning a bit but everything else seemed to be working. The manager came back. A problem? he asked. I knew exactly what I must have looked like, I was used to it: red face, thick nose, dark rings under my eyes and white lips. On top of that, I smelt bad, rain and sweat didn’t make a good combination. A problem? he repeated, slightly irritated. Everything’s fine, I said, stressing both words to be sure they didn’t get away from me, and I added, I’m off to do my shopping, trying to sound casual. Why did he have to look at me like that? Hadn’t he ever seen anyone cry? Where do people cry? I often wonder about that, funny you never see people blubbing in the street. They make phone calls much more than they cry, maybe we’d hate each other less if we cried a bit more.
    I walked towards the door, as upright as I could manage, the bloke stepped aside, frightened I’d fall on him, poor git! I knew exactly what I was doing. I wouldn’t have asked him the way to the nearest shop for anything in the world, I do have my pride. Just as I was about to go out he called, There’s a funfair on, you should take your boys! Now, that was a good idea! We’d make up for the grey sea and the scrap in the café, we’d have our bright lights! A funfair? Uh-huh, he said, on the outskirts of town, just before the main road. I was too exhausted to carry on the conversation so I gave him a little wave and went out.
    Hard to say whether it was nightfall already or whether it had never actually been day, the light itself seemed so hesitant. It wasn’t raining so hard but the sky was darker, it was a fine rain with tiny icy raindrops, poor man’s snow, something you couldn’t put a name to. It did me good, though. I tipped my head back and looked directly at the sky, it was all fresh, waiting for me.
    In fact, the town was very small, everything was either at the end of the road or behind the post office, it was a shrunken town, maybe the sea nibbled into it a bit more each day, edging a bit further into the streets. I walked very slowly through the mud, it was harder on your own than with a nipper on each hand. It’s just as well they’re not here, I thought, they didn’t see me cry,the psychiatrist often says Try to avoid breaking down in front of the children.