The ships on the wall were the same ships he watched from the canal bridge every Markday.
He sat in the fourth row instead of the third. The third was too close, the third was where the women sat and crossed their hands during the benediction screenings. The fourth row was better. Far enough from the screen that the images were proportional, close enough that the detail was visible. He had learned this in three visits. The learning happened without deciding to learn. The body found the right seat the way the body found the right pocket for keys, the right pressure for a door handle, the right speed for walking home along the canal at dusk.
