I crossing the Channel to France, sailing down the Atlantic coast to Portugal, into the Mediterranean, through Spain and Italy to Greece. Trying to find for something that I am missing… Weeks, months, years of travelling at walking pace on the beach, completely immersed in nature. I have become my own living proof that you need very little to be extremely happy. I live alone at sea. I finally find myself.
By the remoteness, of those icy winds, through the hydrogen clouds, their gazes seemed to sink into the bottomless blue azure. The cold choked the temporal flow but the storms reminded them of their presence, endlessly, without pause, without stop, forever. Though the sun was too far away, still something warmed them from within. Perhaps these thin rings of icy particles, mixed with creator dust grains, interacted with the souls. To the accompaniment of the booming sound of gases, the hurricanes raced over the surface with unrelenting speed. At number seven.