Days of Survival

                                                            5 days, Southern France

The deafening cascade of sound came from all directions at once and made their way into her brain. She couldn't find a single source, it came from everyone around her, both young and old. Everyone trying to be heard over the others while talking to their table mate. It had been this way her entire stay at the four star resort in southern France and she never got used to it. The resort was always noisy. Worst of them all was the dining hall around lunch time with its annoying mix of cultures and different languages. She could only detect a few languages if she really listened closely.

The delicate watch with a golden dial and silver pointers told her with a faint ticking sound that lunch was almost over. She put down the last piece of bread on the plate, she wasn't going to finish it as she had slowly lost her appetite during the meal. She gathered her long, brown hair and put it in a high ponytail. She rose from the chair, creating a scraping sound that got lost in the noise. Her eyes met the eyes of one of the waiter. He quickly looked away and a hint of a faint blush crept upon his cheeks. The woman smiled warmly and left the hall with confident steps.

A cool breeze in the warm air brushed against her bare legs and played with her red skirt. The wind promised an ending to the summer and hinted at the arrival of the fall. The sudden weight of a hand against her shoulder startled her, she turned around and met the eyes of the waiter once again. He was young, maybe 20 or 21 years old. As usual it was hard to tell with boys that age. "Pardon madmoiselle, I couldn't stop thinking about, yeah, you know," he said and smiled tentative. A big hand brushed through his black hair, leaving slits in the heavily gelled hair. His English was far from perfect and his French accent shone through brightly. The woman returned the smile and waited patiently for the continuation. The boy took a deep breath and shook his hands multiple times before continuing, "I wondered if we could do it again?"

"You know the procedure, leave a letter in the reception and I'll get in touch," the woman said and left the boy standing there. She could bet that he was still staring after her but she would not turn around, that behaviour was below her.

When the doors to the reception opened the woman was met by a gust of cold air. She shivered and entered the room, the cold surrounding her completely. Her steps created soft thumps against the white stone floor. She looked around as usual, the yellow walls screamed at her, not even the amazing paintings could distract her from the colour. Her eyes came to rest on the receptionist, a woman in her fifties. "Lydia! So nice to see you again," the receptionist said with a huge smile on her big, red lips. It was the kind of red you would find yourself trying to get rid off from your cheek after a visit to your grandmother.

"Hélèna, Ca va?" Lydia answered and made sure not to pronounce the h in her friend's name. They had known each other for about ten years and it had taken Lydia five to learn that the h was silent in French.

"I'm good, could've been worse. But thank God that the summer's almost over, I'm getting tired of these buffoons with all their complains. The buffet don't have enough sea food, can I have an extra pillow-"

"The sun is too strong, nobody told me that I needed sunscreen," Lydia's comment drew out a laugh from her friend.

"Exactly! They never cease to complain about the weirdest things. Yesterday someone complained about the sand being too sandy," Hélèna said and pressed a few buttons on the computer. The computer was an old thing that shouldn't be working after all these years. It was amazing that it had survived and Lydia always tried to convince Hélèna to buy a new one. They laughed together for a minute or two before it slowly died. Hélèna's smiled faded away and was replaced by a thin line. The wrinkles by her eyes straightened out and she sighed before speaking, "You are here to get your letters, aren't you?" The smile faded from Lydia's face when she heard the change in her friends tone.