Jacob was on the beach, lying in the sand, dozing off a hangover. He and his friends had gathered again last night, and for some reason, their ideas seemed more revolutionary and courageous the more they drank. In the morning, he had felt less tough. Now he was lying on the beach, his hat pulled over his face, the headache slowly ebbing away. Some fisher girls had passed him by earlier, collecting flithers and driftwood, but his headache had still been too bad to call out to them to join him a while. He had heard them whisper and giggle, but had let them go. Now, some time later, he was dozing, until he suddenly felt his ankles become cold and wet, and he sat up and shrieked as water ran into his shoes. His hat fell into his lap. The tide had changed and the water was slowly reconquering the beach.