The Beach

by Alex Garland

Scars and tattoos. You need to know someone fairly well before asking questions.

He turned back, also frowning, but with the smile still not faded from his lips.

Maybe to have a memory, you need time for reflection, however brief, just to let the memory find a place to settle.

You don’t march into Hindu temples and start saying, “Why are you worshiping a cow?” You look around, take on board, adjust, accept.

I ended up talking to myself. Walking around the pool, treating my mind as if it were a separate but reasonable entity, I asked it to leave me alone for a while. Or at least turn down the volume.