He dislikes the idea of a fallible memory, that a memory can be sweeter and more perfect than the reality itself was. As he looks out off of the balcony, he knows the memory will be nothing like what he’s experienced tonight. Parts will be exaggerated, parts cut out entirely. And, when he sees the same scene again, it might be disappointing.

But he hopes not. Maybe this time, his memory is dead on. Maybe the next time he looks out from the balcony, the scene will be just as sweet as he remembers it. But then the sun will set again, and he’ll have to wait through another long day.

But he’s got a hunch: it’s worth waiting for.