Inkognito sits on a low terrace above Waikiki, a half-read travel journal open on the table beside a cocktail. An orchid petal has settled on the edge of his napkin. Below, a surfboard drifts slowly past the break line, unmanned, unhurried.

Falling by Reisender comes through the speakers at a measured pace, its progressive build matching the slow pull of the tide. He closes the journal.