Whitby. Whatever it was that her siblings saw in this town, Nesah could not see it. It was as crowded as it was dull. There was the sea. There was a beach. There was a ruin. There were too many shops selling the same black 'jewelry' fit only for people who wanted to look like they had given up on life already. If you came too close to the cottages and yards, there was the nauseating smell of fish mixed with the kind of filth that only existed where too many people lived packed together. And there were the bastards known as seagulls. People actually traveled to this place for their mediocre seaside holidays, but even that had stopped during the winter. Whitby. Despondency-on-sea.

But for now she continued to exploit her siblings' hospitality, for though she longed for an independent life, she knew that her parents would be concerned if she lived all by herself somewhere else, so for their sake, she was stuck here. For now. Nesah spent most of her time studying for her entrance exam, but now and then she would take a walk, still trying to see the attraction of the town which her brothers apparently felt. The harder she tried, the more she hated the place. She hated it when dirty fisher people nearly bumped into her. The thought of getting that smell on her clothes was sometimes enough to make her turn around and go back inside. She hated the way the people talked, with accents so thick and words so strange that it was hard for her to understand with her text-book taught English. She hated many more things, and she stood reflecting on all of them by the water side, thinking that she was alone for once. But suddenly she heard a groan. She turned to look around, but she could not see anyone. She just was turning back when from the corner of her eye, she spotted the young woman on the overhang and jumped in fright and grasped. She muttered something in Yiddish. Look! Another thing she hated!