B Minor
That piece of lichen on the wooden armrest was all they could focus on. Sitting alone on a bench in the park, staring at that greenish mark. Trying to make out a form or structure in its shape. Turning its picture endlessly, obsessively around in the mind. Filling that agonizing empty void with this pointless, unfathomable riddle. Desperately blocking out all sense, in order to hold back the ocean.