It is beautiful. That kind of beauty that is hard to take your eyes off of. But when she looks at you, you automatically lower your gaze, like grandmothers do in church. There is anxiety and intensity in her gaze. Some would perceive it as an S.O.S for help, others, more perceptive, as a clear indication of mental disturbance. Daphne, that's her name, crossed her legs and lit a cigarette. She was slender and, as is usually the case with well-formed women who have nothing to hide, slightly dressed. A pareo asymmetrically covered one leg up to the knee, leaving the other leg exposed up to the upper thigh. Maybe she dressed like that for me. Maybe not.

Against the backdrop of the island of Revelation, a story of initiation, love, and the search for lost youth. That can be regained.