The Nellie, a small ship, dropped anchor quietly. The tide was coming in, the wind was calm, so we had to wait for the tide to change before continuing down the river.
The Thames River stretched out before us, seeming endless. In the distance, the sea and sky met, blending together. In this bright space, the sails of flat boats drifting in with the tide looked like still red shapes, sharply pointed, with shining wooden parts. A light fog hung over the flat, low shores. The air was dark over Gravesend, and farther it seemed even blacker, a heavy darkness over a large city.
The company director was our captain and host. The four of us watched him as he stood at the front of the boat, looking out to sea. He looked very much like a sailor. It was hard to believe his job wasn't on the river, but in the city behind us.
We were all sailors, and this shared experience brought us together. It made us patient with each other's stories and beliefs. The lawyer, a very kind older man, had the only comfortable seat and was lying on the only rug. The accountant had a box of dominoes and was playing with them. Marlow sat cross-legged at the back of the boat. He was thin, pale, and looked like a statue. The director checked the anchor and then sat down with us. We talked a little, then there was silence. For some reason, we didn't play dominoes. We felt peaceful and just watched the surroundings.
The day ended beautifully. The water was calm and shining; the sky was clear and bright. Even the fog over the water looked beautiful, like a thin, shining cloth. Only the darkness to the west, over the upper part of the river, grew darker, as if angry at the sun.
Finally, the sun slowly set, changing from bright white to a faint red, without any light or heat, as if it was dying, touched by the darkness over the city.
