on your fishing boat. You’d dropped your line-cutting knife and it sank in a moment, cost you ten dollars that knife and was good and sharp. Then up surfaced the astronaut and his wife who’d been diving among shoals a dolphin-leap away, and they saw you peering over the edge of your boat. Down they went for fifteen minutes and refused to come up until they’d found your knife, flatly refused. It’s alright, you’d said, by way of a raised hand, don’t bother. But they bothered, and found it by some miracle wedged between rocks twenty-five metres down.
