A time when before unto memory one was two under the sun, and the clouds possessed no secrets to behold. Sailing blindly and solitary on an ocean as desolate as the dark side of the moon, a boat moves with no direction, sustaining the ripples, waves and tsumanis, all the while, looking for port. Aloft in the crows nest the lonely Mariner searches for a way to safety, a way to multiplicity, a way to the the riddle of the clouds. Dolphins dance upon the starboard, playfully glancing his way with sad quizzing eyes barking in a language reserved for others. Then as suddenly as they appeared, danced away in silver streaks under the clear water. Searching for realization of port, the Mariner moved on. A white speck hovered listlessly in front of him and for a brief moment the Mariner felt a calm resonate through his water weary body. "The gulls is my harbinger." he spoke softly to himself, but the gull heard his speech and flew to him. The gull flies to sea to die, he thought, or yet to hunt not far from the protection of solidity. The gull perched on the prow of his ship and looked at the Mariner with the same eyes as the dolphin, calling to him once, and flew to the west and into the setting sun. Surrendering to the predication of port the Mariner moved on. Moving steadily into the melting horizon, blinded by the white glare off the water, the Mariner groped forward unseeing. But alas, the gulls call Echoed back to him, heeding him to follow. Now too, the dolphins returned to play along the side of the boat, dancing, circling, sliding. The Mariner averted his eyes from the dolphins and continued his voyage for the far off call of his harbinger. Imagining the visualization of port, the Mariner moved on. After seeming eons the sun drowns into the sea with only a rosy halo of fire leading the way west. >From his perch above the world the Mariner spots something, an anomaly to the flat expanse. The moon rose from behind him, reflecting a pale light on the placid water . Rising in from of him vertical cliffs opened to his watering eyes. to the end of his journey, the end of his solitude. Enveloped by the justification of port the Mariner moved on. The ship slipped along the wall of rock, searching for the opening to port. As the Mariner slipped around a bend in the cliff dawn broke far to the east, illuminating the wall with a pink hue. A break in the rock attracted the eyes of the Mariner, the salinity of his tears equaling the that of the sea. A low rumble came from his chest, and basking in the early morning warmth the Mariner let out a soft sigh. Then a boisterous laugh permeated the still morning air, as the Mariner slipped slowly into port. Embodied with the verification of port the Mariner moved no more. The clouds too shapes from their secrets as the sun slowly rose from the horizon joining when once were two now one to on the shore once upon.