Sartre and Simone join the queue.
It starts moving faster.
They're soon inside.
The morning sunlight streams through Gaudi's stained glass windows.
The shifting colours turn the stone forest into a magical place.
Blue, green, yellow.
Orange.
A crucified Jesus floats skyward, under a jellyfish.
Is that supposed to be a jellyfish? asks Sartre.
No, dear, I think it's a parachute, says Simone.
Sartre wonders why either was thought to be necessary.
Simone looks around for the woman who lent Sartre the hat pin.
But a woman without a hat pin looks much like another.
However, Lucky-Hatpin-Freda has spottted Sartre and come over.
Hello, says Lucky-Hatpin-Freda. You came inside after all.
Yes, says Sartre. The handbag is mended.
Wonderful! says Lucky-Hatpin-Freda. And is my great grandmother's hat pin still stuck to the boy?
Afraid so, says Sartre. We're just waiting on some nail polish remover.
If I'd known, I'd have brought some with me, says Simone.
It's not something one thinks to pack nowadays, says Lucky-Hatpin Freda.
No it isn't, says Simone. With all these nail salons everywhere, everyone has false ones. I'm Simone, by the way.
Freda, says Lucky-Hatpin-Freda. Isn't this place utterly glorious?
Oh yes, says Simone. But I bet my dear husband is having sour thoughts about it.
Not at all, says Sartre. But I do have some questions.
What questions? asks Lucky-Hatpin-Freda.
To begin with, says Sartre, just imagine you're God.
How am I supposed to do that? asks Lucky-Hatpin-Freda.
You aren't, says Simone. But my husband seems able to do it.
Then let me try, says Lucky-Hatpin-Freda. Hmmm. Very nice! What a lot of trouble these Spanish humans have gone to, all for me. I shall reward them by sending sunshine through the windows.
And what is your opinion of the jellyfish? asks Sartre.
What jellyfish? asks Lucky-Hatpin-Freda.
There you go, says Simone. It seems God does not think it's a jellyfish. How about a parachute?
A parachute! So that's what it is! says Lucky-Hatpin-Freda.
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