I have heard it said that a spirit enters

I thought of the rising sun, the singing of birds, and the pale stretch of blue that made up the morning heavens, for I did not like the turn my thoughts had taken, and had learned long ago not to give free rein to them

But as I looked at the shoreline, which was only a shoreline, and raised my mug of rum to my lips, I heard a cracked voice singing, “I’ll be with you in apple blossom time,” and then a laugh

I turned my head slowly in the direction of the scent of joss and opium. She was seated on top of the wheelhousе wearing the heavy black cashmеre shawl that I had brought back for her from one on my voyages. And she was tapping her pipe out on my teak