Tired from navigating, he rubbed his neck and sighed.  Shaking his head side to side, the vertebrae made audible pops and realigned.

Damn, that feels better.

He rubbed his eyes clear and returned to his spotting scope.  Quizzically pondering what unfolded in front of him.

A stunning young woman sitting alone, ashore.  Cross-legged she rocked back and forth, and appeared to be muttering to herself.  From this distance, her autistic like motions, seemed frightening.  In what appeared to be an act of desperation, she was sending smoke signals into the air.  Trapped in this circular mantra, over and over.

Her visage transmitted a cornucopia of emotions:  Frustration, loss, longing, love, need, desire….

What was she rambling though?  Musings, aphorisms, songs?

Perhaps she was hoping the smoke signals would carry her truth, if only the right person could interpret. If only the right person could just see.

Oddly, he longed to put his hand to her cheek, and let his eyes speak all she would need to hear.

Pulling away from the lens, he looked at the now, much smaller figure.  Collapsed the brass scope and put it in his pocket.

It was a small matter, and not his place.  No matter how much he wanted it to be.  His instincts have been wrong before, but his map clearly said:

“Here be dragon’s”