Michael

He felt as if, by unburdening himself with a good cry, he would finally understand something about these obscure events.

He cried softly so as not to disturb the painful workings of memory.

A land where he would be welcomed as his heart desired and be able to forget everything he had learned, and then relearn it without shame or offense, in the sweet and natural way that had to exist and of which he had a dark presentiment.

He found it utterly unjust that on such a sea, beneath such a sky, a boat like theirs should be so full of spite, cruelty, and malicious corruption.

What was the use of seeing things clearly if the only thing clarity brought was a new and deeper darkness?

So he found that he had lost his original identity without acquiring through his loss another.