It is so odd.

I find myself with the queerest temptation.

These islands... For my entire life, they've been my home. My sanctuary. Paradise. Every beat of my heart has happened here. Every breath I've taken has been a breath of island air. The sun, the sand, the shade, the sea... These have been the facts of my life. They've been the limits, the parameters, the immutable laws that shape me, define me; they're the lines I colors inside, and I have never for so much as a single, tiny, lingering second dared to look beyond. It's never even occurred to me. What else could there be?

What else could there be?

Suddenly, when I close my eyes now, I don't see the darkness. I see such magnificent wonders the likes of which I never, ever dreamed. Incredible images, so faint, but so...precious. Huge and sprawling, bright and big and glorious, and they're wonderful. They're amazing. I can barely see them. It's like they run from me, fleeing from my sight, but even the smallest, the weakest, the farthest, the most insignificant glimpse in the very corner of my eye seems like the most truest and most powerful thing I've seen in my life. It sets me on fire. I burn, I blaze, I burst, and I never want to stop.

I sit here on the beach, on the beautiful beach that's cradled me every last day of my life, my home, my perfection, and I despair. There is nothing here. There is nothing so big or so bold, so alive, as what I see in my head, in my heart, when I close tight my eyes, block out this old world in the veil of darkness, the darkness where there is so much, the darkness where there's all, and give myself to the feeling.

The feeling, so sure, that there is so much more out there. Somewhere out there.

That man. The hooded stranger. He must be where this began. He spoke of the outside world, didn't he? It's so...funny. I don't... I can't seem to remember what all he said. I just...

I know...

I know that this world is just too small.