My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold...

Wretched and filthy washed upon the miserable shore. Was this dream or reverie from some past life? The tropical smell permeated my senses. Cane bamboo dwellings by the hundreds. A thousand years worth of galapagos trees. Ladies and children before each one doing various household things. These looked like mermaids a notably mongrel, yet remarkably gentle countenance.

And there I was. Smudged, starved, tattered and half bearded. Being treated by their looks and deeds as if I were the second coming of the holy one.

-Castaway