Lost in the dark beauty of the weather-filled day, we go over into the distance of the hours that we need. Trapped inside a cusp-like halo, we map a thin model of our interstellar spin and come to assume the existence of a single negative shadow. We recognise shadows as they pass overhead and feel certain that we ourselves are the shadows. We see things our own age, ages old and beyond a foreseeable future. We see things of the night’s duration living with us, looking this way and that just as this quiet woman considers dark matter.