Stavanger Bay to light a candle is to cast a shadow

Hope it's okay that I join :D

From deep in the forest, Miranda contemplates a nest overhead. Once you were out on a job to track someone down, the first thing to check was the bird nests. You could find almost everything you needed there: tufts of fur, maybe even an ear or an eye if the pursuer had a lot of luck and the persuant had a depressing lack of it.

But there was no job. There might not be one, for a while. He hawks and spits to the side, revels in the smoothness of his muscle memory. The wind picks up and the foliage moves as if pushed back by an invisible hand. In those few moments, he sees a stranger.

Dark, young, and taller, he thinks, resigned, despairing over his genes and scuffing dirt over the spitball. The ocean roars as thousands of tons of water are displaced by the currents and the waves, stepping in and stepping out. All that weight on top of the seafloor, carrying all that sand. If the world had an edge, this would be it. He thinks about the animals, the plants, the minerals, being broken and reassembled every day, dragged out to the surf like the ugliest bridal train in the world. 

See anything out there? He walks out of the woods. It was all the same to him. Just like how all around the world, you could walk into a coffee shop or a church and not know what country you were in. To others it might've been a declaration of Mother Nature's monopoly on power. To Miranda it was liminal space, as effaced as a doctor's waiting room.