Karl had a day off from all the hassle. Sean'd invited him to watch a local cricket team playing by the river. They'd half-lain, sipping from the cans from the coolbox.

It was a truly British sunny summer day, a day of sporadic lazy clappings, mixed with the sound of bees, the willows' fingers tickling for trout in the brown pools; small words, close acceptances of friendship.

But then Karl's back had felt little breezes dust and shiver, as he heard the sadness behind his friend's voice. The sound of the wave that runs for ever... Sean's love for Viggo.