He had been wading through the stream for around half an hour before it struck that he didn’t know where he was. Granted, he knew where he had been and, presumably, how to get back, as rivers rarely change their course, he could just retrace his steps. Such is the way with rivers. The rare sun had brought him out of the house for the first time in weeks: unaccustomed to the heat, he had decided to cool off by taking a paddle in the clear water. As he pursued the current, familiarity melted away around him, until he was completely alone, away from town and trouble. He crawled out onto the bank, propped himself up against a lime tree, and thought about nothing at all.