Last night I was sitting writing at my computer when my chair shook. The light in the room was moving, casting shadows on the wall. Startled, I glanced round and saw that the lamp was rocking gently on the floor as if some giant cat were playing with it, tapping it like it was a ball of wool.
I could not understand what was happening. I’d never experienced anything like this before. I went out onto the terrace and looked around. There was nothing untoward, no explosions, no flying saucers, no crash on the nearby train line.
I went back into the apartment, Maybe it was some extremely angry poltergeist. And then I guessed. Could it be an earthquake? I stood unmoving, silent, straining to feel and hear anything more. There was nothing. I went to bed.
This morning I found out that it was indeed an earthquake. It was felt all along the Cote d’Azur. It reminded me of how much more wild and savage the south of France is than where I used to live in the south west of England.