Dancing in Boulogne-Sur-Mer

Dancing in Boulogne-Sur-Mer I was dancing in Boulogne-Sur-Mer when a young woman stopped me, and said, “Madame, you are superbe.” She told me twice, Madame you are superbe But I didn’t feel superb. Hadn’t for a long time, if ever at all. How is superb supposed to feel when you're dancing in Boulogne-Sur-Mer? Later I visited my doctor to ask if there was anything she could give for treatment of the human condition; explain the woman had told me I was superbe. The doctor laughed, and said there was nothing for it I could take, apart from anti-depressants, if you're depressed, are you, not superb? She asked if I needed to take a break. Shall I sign you off, she said? Maybe some time spent, alone in bed? No, I said. She suggested I chose values, acceptance, rebellion, indifference or hope. I went away, bemused realising there is no choice to be made, you need all values in your armour to face despair when you’re dancing in Boulogne Sur mer.