After the awards ceremony, we milled around a large room with wooden floors and stained windows. The cheese was rubbery and the grapes were spotted slightly with brown. I was the only one in a dress.
I thanked people, congratulated others. Loneliness found me even then, and I left early. I sold the dress the next day. It was tan, and velvety, and it had been one of the most beautiful dresses I owned.
When the plane left the ground, I asked the stewardess if I could be moved to the other end of the plane where an empty window seat was available. I used my most polite Japanese. Loneliness found me even then, and I woke up in the cool dim light of the cabin, cheeks sticky from the tears I had shed in my sleep.
The Fen fog was, and is beautiful, and when it rolls in the only thing to do is to accept it. I counted six brown dogs, and five black ones. I joked that I brought my gloves just so I could hold his hand, and loneliness found me even then.