A respite

She was working a quiet shift. It was another typical Saturday before the season started. One family were on the terrace. Local, probably: the son was telling an animated story, and his parents – although engaged in their own separate conversation – were encouraging and laughing along with him. The locals sat inside, under the cool fans, watching the lottery numbers appear on screen and occasionally making comments across the bar to each other.
Outside, the hot air was thick with ladybirds. Thousands of them: flying, walking, fucking. Hundreds were crushed on the pavements, where they had stopped to rest. Or to mate. Ladybird landing is an imprecise art; many were landing on their backs, struggling to right themselves. The only way to do it was for them to open their wing cases and flip themselves over. It took them a long time to work this out. Each one that landed rolled and shook itself for seconds, nearly a minute, before it tried to use its wings. Then it flew off again.
The new customer at the bar was different. He was alone, but he was not local. He was relaxed, but hot. She walked out to him. Tourist, she thought. He ordered a coffee. She offered him water; he didn’t want it. He looks hot, she thought, I’ll take him some anyway. He thanks her. He tries to order food. His French is weak: it’s been 14 years since he learnt it, and it has been used once, briefly, since then. She doesn’t speak English. She could do without this; she could be sitting inside in the cool. But he’s friendly and he smiles and he’s no trouble. Sitting there, reading his book. And he’s covered in ladybirds, and seems to find it all amusing. They work out what he wants to eat. He speaks to her, “qu’est-ce que c’est, en Francais?” He’s pointing at a ladybird. She writes it in his notebook – coccinnelle – and she walks away.




On the road? I can't even get off the rails...


He continues writing in his notebook, deftly flicking coccinnelles off himself: if you flick them hard enough, they can open their wings and fly away; if not, they hit the floor with a light crack, before righting themselves and flying off.
He finishes his food and leaves money for the bill. She doesn’t see him go.