Silence, a cool somber breeze quenches his breath. The rocky cliff before him, overlooking the dark endless waters below, dwarfs him. Sitting on an old rotting bench, rooted deep in the grass and roots beneath, he stares intently at the faint light in the horizon fading beneath the water, a look of regret on his face. He wears a black suit and maroon tie. His clothes, damp and wrinkled, hang loosely of his body. Behind him a grand forest stands, lush and uninviting, the grass below his feet, a healthy shade of green, lifeless.
His hair rustles as a faint breeze overcomes him. He slowly raises his hand to his chest, reaching for a pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket, eyes fixated to the coast. He gently pats the cartoon, listening for the sound of the cigarettes bouncing of the cartoon. 4 cigarettes. He lowers his hand back to his lap where both arms rest on his legs. After a moment he lifts his hand to the armrest of the bench, slowly pushing himself up. He stands as if just waking, taking one last look of the sea as before he turns and walks off into the woods.
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