Did they each walk in circles on opposite sides of the island without ever meeting each other? A turning wheel that only goes in one direction? That cannot be, can it? The ferry had docked and he had stepped out to land over the railing, she had stepped out under the railing, from another deck and as if the devil was playing with them; they still were not allowed to meet, maybe they would never meet, who knows. An island is in itself a place of unfulfilled desire, to hold steady, to mainland. Isolated and thrown back on itself, it is a vicious circle that is hard to break. The wheel turned faster and faster and lashed them to the outer edge where they could barely cling to a tree so as not to be thrown out into the deep wild sea.
He had to think of a merry-go-round at the Jardin du Luxembourg where he once had to spend the night as a little boy, because the carousel was not stopped and everyone forgot about him, tucked between an elephant and a giraffe. At first it was fun but when everyone went home he was scared to death that night would swallow him.
She remembered a merry-go-round at the Jardin des Tuileries with only wooden horses which were either white or black, depending on the backlight. She wanted to jump on a horseback so badly and turn until everything around was be blurry and forgotten.
How would this island help these mutually attracting or repelling force fields, when both were for each other in profile ideal to come together? First come to a stop, calm down, easy now, watch out, do not be puny, become generous.