‘Pull yourself together, why don’t you?’ the small, dark girl suggested. The sailor looked around him. The amphitheatre was gone. So was the four-square man. His shovel was leaning against the wall of the green metal container. Someone had kept on top of the shovelling, though. The line of games stretching away from the green metal container appeared to have disappeared. ‘What you need is some joie de vivre,’ said the small, dark girl. ‘Where are the games that will never end?’ the sailor asked. ‘Some joie de vivre and some aquavit,’ the girl continued. The sailor looked at her. ‘What do you know of aquavit?’ he asked. ‘I’m older than I look,’ the girl replied. The sailor shook his head. ‘Pour me some aquavit, then,’ he said. The girl laughed. ‘It isn’t as simple as that,’ she told him. ‘I just said that you needed some, not that I had it.’ Suddenly, the sailor understood the sadness he had witnessed once in a girl sitting at a table in a place that closely resembled his current location. ‘This is my sorrow,’ he said. The small, dark girl slowly pedalled towards him. ‘It could also be your joy,’ she said.