We were sitting on the North pier. Men were sanding the deck of a boat. I was watching the shimmering patterns of the water. A woman was walking her dog on the beach. Middle aged and elderly people were sitting around us, also waiting for the boat. A couple walked by. We had spoken to them last night in the bar. I waved and called out to them. I think they didn't notice us. Or possibly they just ignored us but that seemed out of character.
"Most people don't appreciate what they've got. They don't appreciate what's at hand," a woman on the bench beside us was saying. It was warm and sunny with a light breeze. Liebe yawned. I liked this sound. The breeze rippled the patterns of the water. I asked Liebe if her head still hurt. She didn't understand. Then she understood and said that her head was better now. Then she made some nonsensical sounds as she was wont to do in those days. She put her sunglasses on and began singing. I could feel the warmth of the sun on my skin. And then the breeze. Sometimes I felt as if I hated everyone. Then, other times, a more amiable disposition would come over me.
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