I met them at the beach

They were a nice couple who recently visited Nice and our sunny beaches. Soren, of medium height, a forty-year-old man, was leading his wife Missy by the arm, and she was short and obese, twice his size.
Of course, I learned their names later, but I tell you as if I always knew them.
Soren talked about something to her, splashing along ankle-deep in the water, and she walked behind him, swaying with a stout body and laughing at his speeches. It was obvious that Soren, even taking in consideration his wife’s external look absurdity, is very fond of her. He carefully made sure that she inadvertently didn't fell into the water and did not get lost in the crowd of lazy snobs; he followed her with his gaze when she went to buy herself another ice cream or a hot dog, which she was especially fond to.
Missy always smiled at her husband and constantly grabbed and then let go of his big palm. They were constantly seen together.
I read about this behavior in a book that I kept on my desk. Mutual care leads to mutual respect, and vice versa - something like that.

But I saw them every day at our resort. Missy was lying in a lounge chair, and in the shadows, comfortable for the eyes, she read some thick, unattractive-looking books. Soren did not read these books, on the contrary, he even avoided them.
Or so it seemed to me - maybe this was far from the truth, but who knows what this truth is. For me, there is no truth, but there is one big misconception. All life is a complete fallacy. I was mistaken in everything and always - it was the only thing that I was sure of.
I'm thinking too much. Way too much. I should stop, but i just can't.
Of course, it was not the best of feelings - a constant paradox of thoughts, parading from end to end of my own gray matter. It seemed as though I had seen the dragoons of my own thinking drumming at timpani, dressed in liveries, - i always see things this way.
I was soothed by the thought of book that I kept under my pillow, the book about peace and prudence, about how to live. I was living by this the book to cure my nervousness.

I think, my presence somehow began to irritate Soren, and then he came up to me, his eyebrows were displeasedly contorted, as if he was angry, but angry at himself — such anger appears when you cannot understand yourself and what you want (that's what the book says)- and directly asked me why every day I lie on the same beach, where he and his wife are at, and why am I always lay on the same lounger, and why I stare at him and his wife.
I somewhat nervously replied that I was here long before their arrival and want nothing to do with his wife, but at the mention of her, Soren began to get even more frustrated, as if I was clinging to his personal life more than I could allow myself before - although I allowed it to myself only one time and quite briefly, though not too elegant, or rather, even clumsy. Then I added that I didn't know what to do, and if he wants, I can find another beach. Soren paused, then looked at me funny - like he was staring through me and silently walked away.
He went away and returned to the lounger, trying not to look in my direction. I felt guilty - I probably think too much about people I don’t know; I generally think too much and sooner or later it will end badly. It would be necessary to re-read the book, the chapter on communication with other people from a positive and constructive point of view.

...

The next morning I took my bag and went away from the hotel not to the right, but to the left, away from the lounger of Soren and Missy. They are very unpleasant people - there is such a type of people who you like at first, but then it turns out that they are not very pleasant. They probably thought the same about me now, but they didn’t like me from the beginning — I’m sure of that, although I’m wrong of course.
I wonder what he found in his fat wife? She must be good in bed. That's for sure. No one will live with a fat seal without any additional bonuses. Or maybe he is just a miserable poor man and the only thing he can afford is such a wife. And then he fucks her, and her fat butt sways like a boat. I even rubbed my hands gleefully - now I can see you, Soren. Damn swede. I laughed. You are a piece of shit, Soren. Because of you, I have to sit on the other side of the beach where noisy Dominicans rest.
You see, I don't like it. I sit where I feel comfortable, and I sat there before you arrived, and I will sit there after you leave, finally - and not only sit, and lie down, and look at anyone, and go swimming without someone drilling me with his angry gaze, and I will again lie on a sunbed and smoke my cigar. Damn Swedes. I did not know any Swedes in my life, but I already hated them.

It was getting dark, and I headed home, to take a shower and wash off the caustic salt - and sunblock, which saved me from the peeling layers of my own skin.
And i saw then on my way home.
I almost started shaking - this sweet couple was still lying on the beach near to my place where I used to lie. Missy was lying on a lounger as a nasty, fat hippo, and Soren was lying on the sand in his blue swimming trunks, and his feet were covered by sea water. When will you get out of my beach??? I left my lounger for you and went to another place which I hate, and you still here.
I recalled the book - a positive approach, a friendly attitude towards unfriendly people, but I was too angry - although I did not find any serious reason for this.
I tried to avoid the eye contact, but then Missy the hippo - she was in a red closed swimsuit - turned over on a lounger and looked at me. Then she looked the other way, and then again at me. What are you staring at, I thought to myself and turned away.

I was afraid that Soren would follow me and would speak to me, but apparently they were not pleased at all by the idea of meeting me.
And me... they are staring at everyone and then not ... not ... not ... then they are staring at all ... and in general ... people are not ... not ... unpleasant and in general I ... I ho...hope ... that I will never see them anymore ... more... mmm... r...
A lump stuck in my throat, I seemed to choked on something — either saliva, or malice, or the setting sun — and began to fall under its weight — of the sun, malice, and saliva — I don't know — but I fell and began to frantically grab sand with my palms.

The last thing I saw was the frightened and worried - but still hated by me - faces of Soren and Missy. It seemed to me that they would now spit on me or beat me, as my father did when I was ten.

....

I woke up in my own ward. Soft walls. A small window on top. Door with bars. Nothing unusual to me.
A nurse came in, Miss Walters, an old woman who kept herself very tidy.
- Did you take your medicine? You were released on the condition that you take pills three times a day. Look, you even left your favorite book here.
- I ... I forgot, just ... forgot.
- And you were again found on the beach. You were told a hundred times that you should not go to the crowded places.
- There were ... these two ... nasty ... so fat ....
- Please don't. No need for such words. They only show that you still need time to heal.
- I'm healthy! I need to go home. I need to go home.
- No. You should stay here for a week. We will make sure you take the pills.
- Okay. I need to calm down. And that's all. Then I take your pills.
- Well, fine.
From the pills that I haven’t taken for a long time, the storm inside my heart has not weakened, but those pills, stirring up my stomach with a portion of hospital soup, calmed my mind. What made me so angry? I just had to forget about these people, about Soren and Missy. Well, they took one lounger, I borrow another, well, I saw them once, well, I saw them twice - there is no tragedy. Just be still. Like the sea on shiny day. You can read all these common truths in the book.
Then the door opened again - what else could it do but opening and closing - and Miss Walters walked in.
- There're some guests waiting for you, - she said, taking my plate and medication cups.

- Who can be there?
- Mr. Gustafson and his wife.
- Who's that .... - I didn't get it at first. - What do they want?
- They want to ask if everything’s fine with you. It was them who found you on an empty beach when you... disconnected.
- Well ... let them in.
They entered, this time being dressed properly: he is in a suit, she is wearing a wide dress with a pattern of white and red flowers.
- Thank you, - I said, - for picking me up.
- You're welcome, - said Soren. - We immediately noticed that you are not well.
- I have not taken ... pills.
- It's okay, and now you are going to be healthy again,
- Not yet in full, but I will, soon.
- We are leaving in three days, so ...
- And I will be out of here in three days.
I wish!
- Then farewell, my friend, - said Soren.
- Goodbye, - I said softly.
Well, they are nice people, after all.
... The nurse closed my door, and I pulled my favorite book from under the pillow. From the window overlooking the stairs, voices were heard, birds singing. Life is good. These kind nurses and their pills will cure me.

I opened the chapter on the inner child within us, who needs the love of everyone in the world, - and which probably can get it if behaves well. As the child receives love from the parents, and I also receive from life.
- Why are you went to this bastard at all? - I heard a female voice.
- What could I do? He fell right before our eyes, we couldn't leave him this way.
- His devilish eyes was looking at me, as if through a swimsuit.
- Don't be silly, Missy.
- You didn't see it. But I did. We should had to leave him there.
- But now he is in the hands of doctors and will not bother us. He belongs to the crazy house. ... He came up to me, stuttered something there, spat all over my face. Yuk.
- What a disgusting crazy moron, - her voice sounded much quieter, as they walked away from the window to the gates of the hospital yard.
I jumped out of bed and pressed my face to the bars, and wanted to shout to them that I didn’t need their help and official visits, but I changed my mind. The book teaches different. We must live by this book. We must admit our guilt, and thus let it go.
It worked.
Damn it. I am at fault. And what kind of attitude you can expect towards those like me. I stutter, spit, bugs people and look at fat women.

I was continuing reading the book, having picked it up from the floor - I threw it there. The book reassured me. It taught kindness and understanding of everyone and everything. I should be more polite to people, I should not cause their irritation. I should be more tolerant, more kind. There's all about it. Three hundred pages of knowledge and wisdom from the experiences of psychologists. And a little parts about yoga and vegetarianism. About religion, as well. In general, all that is useful and soul-saving, I guess.
The Book was brought to me by a nurse, who now quit the job and left to her brother's farm; there were even her notes preserved in pages.

But I was tired of reading and slammed the book.
The second volume of the work by the title “The Infinite Wisdom of All Things. Kindness and Understanding.” Written by S. and M. Gustafson.