"As he counted the grains of sand his mind wandered off elsewhere. He was not present, here, nor there. As he sat amongst the dunes he wondered in which direction the breeze might blow next. The dust blew hazily all around his head as he looked out to sea. The rolling waves shone pink under the glow of the dying sun as the night grew close. The sound of music could be heard faintly in the distance, a chant of sorts, but he did not care much for that sort of humour or song."