I love to stay in bed all evening when the fog horns humming to the ships can be heard over the gossips curling their hair in the warm bathroom light next door, in all the houses that stretch easily to the ocean. At this time, shadows begin to blend with the cold and everything is its own small mystery, except me, one lamp, Instead of dressing like the rest, I take off—sweater, socks, pants, entertaining before me twelve hours of unseen boats.