A quarter to
midnight. The bar is empty and so is the countryside. Marie steps into
the dark to turn out the neon sign “The Blue Lagoon”. “Chez
Roger” would have been a lot better, she thinks, as she does every
night. But well.
Inside, she starts putting the chairs on the tables. She will clean
the floor afterwards.
Suddenly, someone knocks on the door. “Closed!!”, she yells,
without looking. (Closing time won’t change!)
A man comes in anyway. He’s wearing a blue woollen winter hat.
He coughs. She briskly turns around. They look at each other for which
seems like an eternity. Silence.
She: We don’t serve anymore.
He: I’m not thirsty.
Elle: So what do you(1) want then?
He: I came looking for someone.
She: I’m the only one here.
She continues putting chairs on the tables, without looking at him.
She: And I don’t have any intention to follow you.
He: I’ll wait.
She: You must have time to waste?
She: What are you doing here?
She: I don’t care anyway.
He: It’s a beautiful story, though.
She: That’s what they always say, once it’s finished.
He: It isn’t finished.
She: But you’re on your own.
He: I’m not, you’re here.
She: Not for very long anymore. Besides, I’m tired.
He: I haven’t been able to sleep for months.
She: Well go home then, and sleep!
He: I don’t have any home.
She: There’s a station not so far away from here. The benches
aren’t very comfortable, but it’s a quiet place. And you
will be in direct contact with the stars.
He: The problem is, I just can’t fall asleep.
She: Count sheep.
He: Where can I find them?
She: You’ve come to the wrong place, we don’t sell anything
of the kind here.
He: So what’s your job then?
She: Misery… The fat laughs of the drunk, the sad and sour conversations
of those who have nothing to tell. The blue smoke of brown tobacco.
The noise, the oblivion, the drowning…
He: Drowning with you must be terrible!
She: If you’re talking about swimming, I’m very exigent
on the choice of the company.
(1)You: “vous” - formal form
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