The world was still, and Yunus felt alone in existence. He walked along the shore beneath a sky studded with stars. It was his birthday, and he was finally returning home, after his drinking buddies had departed one by one. All he could hope for was that the end be without pain or suffering. When he had chosen to settle in Neapolis, he had thought that writing might be more beneficial than at any previous time. But whenever he picked up a pen and brought it toward a white piece of paper, words fled from him like birds flying away from a hunter.