Well away from the house, the lions hiding in the shade were no longer stirring. The incident was over. But Léa, Bianca and Zhan had not sat down again; females are not as lazy as males, especially when it’s hot. That afternoon there was no wind; the air did not carry the scent of the flock of sheep, but that woman and her horse had been there right in front of them, and they had added her to their memories of prey. They had not forgotten about the sheep; they knew they were there, behind, three hills away. Wild cats never give up; they would never forget that the sheep were nearby; one way or another, one day they would break their bonds, one day they would escape their chains. Lions, far more than man, never give up on their desires.

August 2017

August 2017

Franck woke up the next day feeling the need for civilisation again. He wanted to see people, get a coffee and inhale its aroma, and feel a crowd around him. He missed the commotion of the city, the ever-changing murmur of other people’s conversations, and passers-by, and cars, that constant flurry that serves as a distraction from the void. He sat down once more right at the back of the Paradou bistro. He felt grounded again, enjoying his spot far enough away from the rest of the customers that he felt peaceful, but surrounded by the reassuring buzz of human activity.

Since they had been at Mont d’Orcières, he had been doing something completely new. For the first time, he was experiencing the strange sensation of living in a house a long way from anything else, lost in both space and time. Thanks to the gîte, he was discovering that solitude could be rewarding, and that it was possible to find fulfilment away from others. All through the year he was around people, yet he was alone when it came to making decisions, alone when it came to his associates and alone when it came to his financial partners and the people circling, always asking him about his accounts.