He knew at that moment what Kate Chopin meant. He knew why Edna simply walked into the ocean. As he looked out at the water, it was dark, hypnotic, summoning. Only the tips of the waves were allowed any color other than black, and that a suspiciously dark green. The effect was that of an empty space, with perhaps some muted aurora lining it. Or something else. He struggled for an apt metaphor, knowing he would want to record this later. Perhaps not an aurora. Perhaps the bodies of dead eels. The sea was a sky, and a light fog of green light was settling on it. Yes.

In America, this would have been a perfect place to meet guys. The water on one side gave the perfect excuse for walking up and down the sidewalk without seeming to loiter. The concrete barrier at the edge of the embankment was set at an odd angle, and forced one to lean at a suggestive angle. He pulled out a cigarette and struggled to light it. He was not really a smoker, and was not yet able to light a cigarette offhandedly as his friends did, with merely a brush of the flame.

But this was not America, and the walk was not a good place to meet guys. Leaning backward against the concrete, he blew a jet of smoke in what he hoped was the correct manner, and then turned around. The sea was still that strange emptiness, and it fascinated him. He pulled himself up to the top of the barrier and jumped straight into the water, not really knowing why.