French version : C’est un roc
She was alone on that beach. Everyone was gone. They sensed something bad was about to happen. But not her. She’d always been unconscious. Innocent. Maybe even a little foolish around the edges. But only when it suited her.
Still, she should have known by now. She should have felt it. Like all those people who were in such a hurry to get as far away from that beach as possible. This beach, which had once been a place of relaxation, this beach that had been the scene of their summer games. This beach that they had always known like this. It was one of the few things in their lives that did not change. That didn’t want to change. Or didn’t dare to. Which was quite different, because in one case it was courage, and in the other it was cowardice. Two very different things, separated by a huge gap.
In any case, the people had fled from this beach that had once seemed wonderful, magical and mysterious to them. They were fleeing the place where they had spent so many summers as children. They were gone now. Maybe they didn’t like it so much, this place after all. They hadn’t grown attached to it, despite the years they’d spent there. How could such a…
Can such veneration, such admiration, evaporate like water in the sun? How can a person change his mind like that, so abruptly? Today she was the only one left. Only her. Only her. The only person on this totally deserted beach. Deserted by all those ungrateful people, because it had allowed them to have a good time, this beach. Very good times, even. Some of them lived there practically all summer long, on that beach! Or rather they had lived there. You had to say it in the past tense. They wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon. They had run away in a hurry, and they weren’t coming back.
And so there she was, on that beach that had seen so many people pass by, but she was alone. Motionless, lonely, brave, determined, her nose to the wind, her hair in a mess, she was holding on. She stood there while everyone else had run away. She was a rock, she didn’t give up, tossed by the winds, shaken like a salad basket. Tenacious. Fighting against forces far more powerful than herself, a mere human. Fighting, fighting, fighting. She withstood the pressure of the elements. Facing it.
Facing the giant of nature. There in front of her, advancing furiously at the speed of a galloping horse, stood a huge roaring wave. She spread her arms, closed her eyes and waited for the shock. Nature sweeping over men. A straw in the middle of the storm. The great powers of the elements were at work, who was she to stop them? The collision would not be long in coming. And then it would vibrate in unison with nature…