31
Habanera, Carmen (Bizet)
Elan (thoughts)
September 21, daytime
I’m surrounded by metal. Maybe I’m dead and, on the other side; they put me in a boat to ease the transfer. I remember having talked at some point. I pronounced words like The Sultan, my ship, tour, sailing yacht, problems, tempest… Some people were watching me, mouth open or scratching their chin. They wore green coats or crew uniforms. Their comments were just muffled sounds of anger, regret, and also wonder.
“What about the others ?” I managed to ask.
“The others ?” a few voices repeated after me like a long echo.
Indeed, which others ?
I remember that I was alone, with water all around me and above me.
Do I still exist ? If I open my mouth, I’ll know, but too late. I mustn’t drown. I must tighten my lips and not
