What had precipitated everything? Was it because of all her overdue e-mails? The apartment to be tidied up, the routine. All these things which, taken separately, seem insignificant but whose accumulation becomes little by little mortifying. She would have liked it to stay that way and that with time, a slow anesthesia would make her forget her own suffering. But deep inside of her there was a spark of consciousness that demanded its due. She needed a rock, a refuge, a place where she could let the solution come to the surface, something that would perhaps explain her escapes.
His thoughts were running through his head like the landscape on the other side of the glass. These daydreams were making too much noise in her head and taking up all the space. She didn't hear, or heard too faintly, the old lady next to her who asked her "Where are you going Miss? Georgia wouldn't have known what to say. How could she say that she was running away from the desire of men?
Older people take the liberty of asking questions of anyone they want and of engaging in conversation anywhere, in a queue, on a train. Their advanced age allows them to do so, the approach of the end of their lives; no one could dispute it.
The old lady did not take offense and turned to the man in front of her. For to her curiosity, her desire to fill the void and the silence was added her obstinacy.
- Forgive my curiosity... What are you reading?
- A la recherche du temps perdu [In search of lost time], by Marcel Proust
- How far along are you ?
- At the beginning
- I prefer le temps retrouvé [the recovered time]
- I'll tell you when I get there
- And you didn't have the idea to take a look at this part?
Pierre did not know what to answer
- You are not very curious!
Peter wondered what the old lady had been like in her youth. What kind of life had she had? Had she loved a man? Had she confessed to him one day that she no longer loved him after twenty years of marriage? Very simple words can turn a life upside down. This is what had happened to Peter a few days earlier. One evening, between two sips of herbal tea, his wife had told him that she no longer loved him. He had felt a twinge of pain. He had felt even more pain than if she had admitted to him that she had a lover and that she was leaving him. They had been young, they had loved each other and it was over. He remembered that couple, the one they had formed. They were good together then. Now he had the impression that they were other people. These memories did not belong to him anymore. So he had decided to break the ties and say goodbye to his past. He was the one who had finally left it.
The old lady, suddenly feverish, looked anxiously at her phone. Georgia and Peter exchanged a look. They quickly looked away, afraid that the old lady would notice. In the phone a monotone voice repeated: "You have reached the answering machine of Marie S., I am not available right now, please call back later..."
- Is something wrong?
- I can't reach my sister. What am I going to do if there's no one to pick me up at the station?
- I can drop you off at her house if you want
- You would do that, oh thank you you are so kind. But it will delay you
- I have plenty of time, don't worry.
- Are you on vacation?
- Sort of, yes.
- I'm here to see my nephew, he had a serious accident a year ago. We all thought he would not make it out alive. He had a good situation you know. He lost everything.
- Nothing is ever lost... you know
- That's exactly what James told me the last time I talked to him on the phone! By the way, my name is Olga, and yours?
- Peter
The train arrived at the station. He tried to lift Olga's heavy suitcase, in addition to his own. Georgia, who had only a simple backpack, asked him with a smile:
- Can I help you?
