The Beach at Night

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Mati is a five-year-old girl who talks a lot, especially to me. I’m her doll.

Her father has just arrived—he comes to the beach every weekend.

He’s brought her a present—a black-and-white cat. So until five minutes ago Mati was playing with me and now she’s playing with the cat, whom she’s named Minù.

I’m lying on the sand, in the sun, and I don’t know what to do.

Mati’s brother is digging a hole. He doesn’t like me. He cares more about a booger than he does about me, and all the sand he’s shoveling he dumps on me.

It’s very hot.

I think about the last game Mati played with me.

She had me jump, she had me run, she got me scared, she had me talk and shout, she had me laugh and even cry.

When we play, I chatter a lot, and whatever I talk to answers me. But here, by myself, half buried under the sand, I’m bored.

A Beetle passes by, so busy digging himself a pathway he doesn’t even say hi.

Mati’s mother left the beach an hour ago and went home. Now her father, too, is about to go; he’s loaded down with bags.

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