I walked fast, lightly, along a busy street in a city I didn’t know. I breathed deeply, but not too deeply, just deeply enough to smell the asphalt. The hot rays of the summer sun had melted the asphalt but they didn’t burn my skin as the wind brought a coolness, a reminder that we lived on an island. If I had breathed deeper I would probably have smelt the ocean. If I had closed my eyes and ignored the noise of a thousand streets and a million cars I would probably have heard the shrill, penetrating squawk of seagulls.
But I didn’t. I did not breathe deeper than I had been because a single deep breath would cause a strong, disgusting cough. I also didn’t close my eyes and I didn’t listen to other sounds because I already had too many voices in my head, and I didn’t want to multiply the fears I was trying to overcome. I just kept walking, smoking my cigarette, along a busy street in a city I didn’t know.
- (Whistle!) Hey, lass! You look so French… so chic! (Whistle!).
That day I felt beautiful, I felt confident, I felt glamorous but I was surprised that these feelings were so visible to the outside. I smiled, embarrassed. I’m always embarrassed when someone catches me when I’m simply feeling good. So I smiled, embarrassed, and I grabbed this compliment greedily, I fed my vanity, and then I put the remains in my paper bag. In there already were a couple of disposable boxes I was about to dispose of as I had already consumed the contents.
I threw all this rubbish into the nearest bin. I was thinking about the chic beggar man who was going to find them that evening, going through the bin, looking for food … and I was glad that that compliment was cheap enough not to make him sick. And then I just kept walking, looking around, along a busy street in a city I didn’t know. I breathed deeply, but not too deeply, just deeply enough…
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