Excerpt from the Package Insert for Guronsan

For treatment of temporary states of fatigue in adults.

Sixty

The day went by easily. There was even a meeting of the team, something normal, and no one had any clue that Natalie was going to see a play that evening with Markus. It was kind of a nice feeling. Employees love having secrets, starting underground affairs, living a life no one knows about. It adds spice to the couple they form with their company. Natalie knew how to compartmentalize things. In certain respects, her tragedy had anesthetized her. Which is to say that she ran the meeting robotically, almost forgetting that the day was leading to an evening out. Markus certainly would have liked seeing some special attention, some sign of intrigue, in Natalie’s eyes, but that wasn’t part of her m.o.The same was true of Chloé, who from time to time would have liked others to notice her privileged relationship with their supervisor. She was the only one who spent time with her that could be categorized as “casual.” Since Natalie had walked out on her, Chloé hadn’t tried to set up a second time out together. She knew the dangerous element that could enter into those moments: witnessing her superior’s fragility could backfire. That’s why she made a point of not mixing categories and scrupulously respecting hierarchy. At the end of the day, she went to see her.“How are you? We’ve hardly talked since the last time.”“Yes, it was my fault, Chloé. But it was a nice time, really.”“Oh, really? You took off like a bat out of hell, and it was a nice time?”“Yes, I mean it.”“Great, then … want to go back there tonight?”“Oh, no, sorry, I can’t. I’m going to a play,” said Natalie as if she were announcing the birth of a green baby.Chloé didn’t want to seem surprised, but there certainly was reason to be. It was better not to emphasize the momentous character of such a statement, and to act as if it were nothing. Once back in her office, she lingered a while to put the final elements of her report in order, check her e-mails; then she put on her coat and left. As she was walking to the elevator, she was struck by an improbable sight: Markus and Natalie leaving together. She got nearer to them without being seen. She thought she heard the word “theater.” Immediately, she sensed something she couldn’t define. Distress, even dislike. Sixty-one

Theater seats are so narrow. Markus definitely wasn’t comfortable. He was sorry about having long legs; as regrets go, it certainly was a useless one.j Not to mention another fact that amped up his torture: there’s nothing worse than being seated next to a woman you’re dying with desire to look at. The show was to his left, where she was, not on stage. Not only that, but what was he seeing? It was so-so. The fact that it was a Swedish play wasn’t exactly helping matters! Had she done it on purpose? As if that weren’t enough, the playwright had studied in Uppsala. Might as well have dinner at his parents’. He was too distracted to follow whatever the plot was. They were sure to talk about it afterward, and he’d come off as a retard. How could he have forgotten that possibility? He absolutely had to concentrate and prepare a few clever comments.All the same, at the end of the play, he was surprised to be affected by a strong emotion. Maybe even on the order of a Swedish identification with the work. Natalie seemed content, too. But it’s difficult to know at the theater; sometimes people seem happy for the simple reason that the ordeal is finally over. Once they were outside, Markus wanted to launch into the theory he’d constructed during Act III, but Natalie cut the discussion short.“I think we should try to unwind now.”Markus thought of his legs, but Natalie elucidated, “Let’s get a drink.”So that was it, unwind. Sixty-two

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