At 9am she is finished with breakfast, a simple coffee, fruits and pieces of baguettes with salmon cream cheese. She heads for the beach in her persian blue two-piece wrapped in a tropical floral-print sarong, and finds a spot that she's sure to be in direct reach of sunlight. Mindlessly she puts on sunscreen, then scrolls with scrutiny on her ipod for a selection that suits her spirits today, and echoes with the sounds of the wind. She lies down on her front on the lounge chair and feels the heat on her skin, hoping her pigments are taking in the rays to make up for drabby weather in the days past.

She bends one leg which swings in mid-air, and extends the other so her toes are digging into the soft yellow sand as if hoping they would find something, perhaps a rock, or a crab. Occasionally she raises her head from her book to look at the people around her. Japanese tourists snapping pictures, children poking at squirrels, loving couples setting up for the day's sunbathing. An Italian pair settles next to her and she tries to make out what the woman is reading to the man from the guidebook. Something about a monkey forest, she reckons. He leans over and kisses the woman, who wraps her arms around his head.

For a slight second she feels alone in this world, thinking perhaps no one will ever really understand and she would always exist independently of others, talking in her head. At this time the voice sings "You don't even have to try any longer, do what you want to." She sits up, looks out at the ocean and far and beyond at where it touches the sky. The endless different shades of blue wash over. She takes a deep breath. Then she turns to flash a big smile at the waiter, and orders an ice-cold pilsner.