In sombre Paris, mass murder leaves emptiness
A sign that reads “Islam does not demand to kill the innocent” is plastered on a shuttered shop in the 11th district of Paris on Sunday. (Photo: AFP)
A sign that reads “Islam does not demand to kill the innocent” is plastered on a shuttered shop in the 11th district of Paris on Sunday. (Photo: AFP)
The indiscriminate taking of so many lives squeezed life out of Paris itself. Not all life but enough to create a sense of emptiness. Although far from extinguished, the City of Light is now unmistakably dimmed.
On sombre streets, scattered with the dead leaves of autumn, Parisians went through the motions of trying to pick up where they left off before suicide attackers slaughtered 129 people, the latest official count. So much felt wrong and out of kilter.
The Eiffel Tower closed and, in doing so, became a 324-metre tall symbol of how much is changed. Its glittering lights, so powerful they usually radiate beams far and wide across the city, were also switched off on Saturday night in mourning.
Disneyland Paris shut its doors. Instead of an Andy Warhol exhibition, the only thing out-of-town visitors Yvette and Guilhem Nougaret saw at the Museum of Modern Art was a sign announcing its closure “because of the circumstances”.
Shoppers expecting to fill their carts with groceries for the week trundled on Saturday to outdoor markets only to find them shuttered and empty, on government orders. Bags of ice that fishmongers would have used to keep wares fresh on their stalls lay unused, melting tears.
As they always do, people still sat and smoked at the sidewalk tables of cafes, but did so knowing that dozens were gunned down and killed doing exactly that just hours before.
“I wouldn’t sit outside,” waitress Flora Jobert said as she served a thick espresso, advising her customer to shelter inside. “I mean, you never know.”
Sirens wailing, blue lights flashing, a police car sped past.
“It’s been like that all morning,” Ms Jobert said.
Along with fear, there also was deep and roiling anger. A retired lawyer, a fashion designer, a musician — people interviewed at random — all insisted: Life must go on, no surrender to terror. They clung to those thoughts like lifebuoys.
“I’m scared,” said Patricia Martinot, a cleaner, who still mustered the courage to take her dog out for his morning walk.