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“I don’t, at any minute, have the slightest idea how I could reach the next one”

“I was tormented by the thought that I might not have time to accomplish my task. What task? I had no idea. Frankly, what was I doing worth continuing?”

Yet the were compelled onward by that mysterious narcotic: hope.

The island seemed to have been designed for one purpose— “crushing the lives of fragile mortals”.

“For the first time in my life, and I wish I could say it was the last, I took the handkerchief from my pocket, covered my face, and cried like the child I was.”