Narrator: “This is the island of New Penzance. 16 miles long, forested with old-growth pine and maple. Criss-crossed by shallow tidal creeks. Chickchaw territory. There are no paved roads, but… But instead many miles of intersecting footpaths and dirt trails, and a ferry that runs twice daily from Stone Cove. The year is 1965. We are on the far edge of Black Beacon Sound, famous for the ferocious and well-documented storm, which will strike from the east on the 5th of September. In three days’ time.”

Anna: I used to love hotels. But now I’m always in a new apartment or… in another hotel somewhere.

Oliver: How do you keep hold of friends? Or boyfriends?

Anna: Makes it very easy to end up alone. To leave people. 

The History of Sadness