2002-10-23 - 4:57 p.m.
The Phantom wanders the shore line and looks at the little shells. So strange that they are so intricate and colorful and yet a creature must die to chare this rare beauty. She sits by the moorings on the dock and waits.
For the tide to change?
For travelers to arrive?
For the sun to set?
She is not sure, but there was this feeling that she should come....
And wait.
A shower passes and the clouds depart and the sun is so bright.
She waits.
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The Phantom's
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