And when the boat struck the waters of the Adriatic - you unfastened again the harness trammeling your body and began painstakingly to unscrew the bolts. One after another. To the last one. And then the three days of sailing without the compass, without any food. It is night.
Midnight is close.
You are sitting in your small, bare room in Frauenburg. You can hear the uproar of the sea, throwing it's waves on the shore and the splatter of rain on the window. You snuff your smoking candle, take a freshly sharpened pen and start writing.