A single figure stood by the cliff edge. From his view point he could hear the surf breaking on the rocky shore hundreds of feet below and the wind whistling through the branches of the tree that he stood beneath. White and grey albatross floated on the air currents both below and above him, their sad aching cries echoed up and down the shore on the breeze. The sky was a brilliant clear azure and except for a few stray wispy clouds there was nothing in the sky but air and sea birds. There was a chill bite in the air, but it was not so cold that he wore a cloak. The wind toyed with his long black hair, whipping it across his wide forehead and lashing the ends into his cold pale blue eyes.
The young mans eyes scanned the horizon where the restless ocean met the unchanging sky, waiting, patiently waiting. His hands, encased in tanned leather, gripped and twisted the worn straps of a burlap bag that rested at his feet.
For a while he stood there ga