Take me to sea and we can sit and watch the sky covering us, like a large quilt speckled with stars. The water will hit against the tripods, making crashing sounds at a distance. We’ll be able to see feet dangling as other people watch what we’re watching, but probably take away, from it, something completely different.

The air will be salty and the rain will put out the many cigarettes along the sea face. It will gently mock the men who are trying to light one, as their female companions cup their hands over it blocking out the wind. The sand will find its way into my slippers and between my toes.

Cars will fly by behind us: the evening cacophony and the clapping of rubber soles on stone. A dog will come and sit with us, and we’ll play with it until it gets tired. The middle of the sea will light up for a brief moment, the blinking red light of a plane above, and we will notice this and smile for no reason.