Midlands Ireland is a matter of "dark sails / sacks of rain".
"That's a key issue," Belczynski says, because when the star explodes, about 2.6 million years from now, it will be so far from the black hole that there's about a 70% chance it will shoot away from the black hole, leaving its dark companion to sail through the galaxy alone.
Clouds dark with rain sailed through the sky.
They knew their vessel had come unmoored in the dark, and was sailing without a flag.
But wherever the Foleys may be, each looks to the night sky and locates the common constellation of kinship: "In the dark then Teige Foley sailed free of that place in his mind and found and reassembled his family.... To himself he told of them as if they were stars".
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One actually wants to go to what may have been, back then in 1924, the most sulphurous, mephitic place on this black Earth: impossible smokestacks loom and belch, dizzying aqueducts sail the high, dark sky.
My sister taught me to watch the stars this way lest I think that heaven was up, or heaven, lest I forget the stars are also below us where they sink and sail into the dark like cinders.
It is the perfect basis for a subject he hasn't really tried yet -- the family, the real American family, like O'Neill's Tyrones, and the way in which they sail on another dark sea from the one floodlit with "family values".
He may even steal the show for modern eyes with his lone tower at twilight, humped blue mountains in the distance, an intense clarity to close objects in the silver dusk, a last sail pricking the dark horizon: a picture of stillness masking threat.
