The girl at the table looked sad. ‘Are you sad?’ asked the sailor. The girl at the table didn’t reply. The sailor felt helpless on the inside. He stood in his bright white trousers with the gold buttons, and his blue and white striped tunic stretched tightly across his muscular frame, and inside he felt weak. He tried to turn back to his shovel and the opening in the green metal container, but the sadness of the girl wouldn’t let him. He knew that all the games in the world at any number of discount prices wouldn’t make the girl at the table happy again. ‘What are you doing?’ said a voice behind him. The sailor glanced over his shoulder. It was his opposite, inside the green metal container. ‘There’s a girl at a table, and she’s sad,’ he told him, ‘what are you doing?’ His opposite was silent for a moment, then, ‘I suppose I’m just waiting,’ he replied. The sailor turned away from the girl at the table and leaned towards the opening in the green metal container. His opposite was leaning from the inside. ‘Waiting for what?’ he asked him. ‘You, I think,’ came the reply, softly.