In not eating meat, it was as though Joséphine were denying the concession they had won. When she was asked about it she pretended that it was to keep her skin white, and that digesting meat tired the brain. She was mad to think that, but people respected her point of view. Anyway, it was getting hotter and they all found themselves eating less meat. With stoves no longer lit, everyone cooked less. At the evening meal they had bread soaked in milk; it was refreshing; the children loved it and it was known as dog soup. The old people would have preferred to eat meat, but now that they had lost their canines, and, like cattle, were left with only a few bottom teeth, they could no longer chew it. They hated becoming herbivores like cattle, when in their youth they had strong molars and canines as sharp as wolves. Ageing meant turning from a young wolf into a ruminant. So to see Joséphine rejecting meat did not sit well with them. Humans had teeth to masticate with, jaws to tear flesh to pieces and crush it vigorously, like cats or dogs. No doubt this woman preferred not to think of herself as an animal. She thought she was better than the rest of them. Now that she was a widow she didn’t eat like everyone else any more, rejecting all the beautiful livestock they were so proud of. The old people became more and more suspicious of Joséphine.

August 2017

August 2017

Lise set up her easel on the bedroom balcony. It was an excellent vantage point from which to paint the landscape, with the three trees in the foreground, the long slope descending all the way to the valley, and the hill in front of her, and many beyond, extending the panorama as far as the eye could see. She was in her element in the countryside, where nobody could watch her. She couldn’t stand the gaze of an audience any more and the sickening feeling of being under scrutiny, especially in the theatre. On some evenings, thinking about all the rows of eyes made her anxious, knowing that she wasn’t really herself in front of them, as if by performing she no longer existed.

The canvas needed at least four layers of perspective. She took up the challenge, feeling a little daunted by the blank canvas and the countryside she wanted to paint. She first had to capture the blue of the sky, and then add the green of the hills. When she thought about it, she noticed that the green had become less bright since they arrived, the trees apparently suffering from the interminable heat. She would have to use the late-afternoon light to work out the shades, since the sun now overpowered everything.