10pm, the night to follow a bright day. Small lanterns on terraces, blinking in blue and green. With the late hours, elephants dare to step out of their corners, and the words unwritten between the lines become more obvious. A light wind on the roofs, a light rain so cold it could almost pass for snow. So, sinking a few more dense thoughts in heavy red wine. Giving up on comprehension. Letting sleep have its way.