Sleepless
It's dark at night in Ko Tao — really dark. We are up the hill and there are no villages near by. It's a stark contrast from the blaze of the city. Here the black sky blends into the sea.
And yet the horizon is dotted with tiny, brilliant white lights. Other islands? A distant shoreline obscured during the hazy day? No, we learn, they are the lights of fishing boats. The lights attract the squid and the fish that come to eat them.
So after a thousand of years of being fished this way, why do the squid still seek the light? Is it an offensive or defensive instinct? A sign enemies in the territory? Or a hint of warmer waters? Are they also looking for things to eat that also seek the light?
Or is it something else — a tentacled memory of youth, a trace of playful times once under the dawn. A memory of others who might also turn towards the light. Out of the inky blackness of the sea and sky, alone in the long depth of the night, perhaps others might also come. Alone in the dark, seeking each other for one last tangled embrace.
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