It was night, it was Matsushima.

Sometimes the days and nights, the weekdays and the weekends drag on mercilessly, even with the help of drink and maybe food and perhaps amusements of all sorts, but they do drag on, and at other times there are so many things to do (not to be done) that my limits are often pushed, and pushed and pushed even more, but curiosity always takes hold and I don't mind the pushing at all.

The other evening, rainy and cold, found me at the pier of Matsushima, where the water was ever so close, the sound of the darkness rushing forth and I remembered the words of Joseph Conrad about the age of the earth being reflected in the face of the ocean (or some such).  The green lights cast their spooky shadows over that part of the world, and the end loomed near.

A couple emerges from darkness.

I am there, in the middle, standing as ever alone.