For only the enormity of space could make her feel a part of something, and even that comfort was temporary. Her with the child in hand standing on the cliff edge, his knees knocking together, her hairs teased from below her scarf by the fingers of the wind .... 'What do you see?' he asked her, his words tussled by the air .... Cold was his nose, cold were his fingers as the wind slapped at his ears and his shoulders, threatened to deafen him, and he willed her to answer him, to say something. He pulled on her arm and took a step forward - towards a cliff edge he couldn't see. And falling, she tugged his weight backwards, tumbling them together onto the rough heather and gravel .... 'Oh my baby, tell me what you see?' pleaded Aureline, rolling her child into her arms, stroking at his hair, pressing his small face and faulty eyes against her neck and almost losing his words. 'I see the loudest sound' he whispered, low into her collar-bone, 'and nothing'.