The heavy thump of his leather boots on the quay muddled with the lapping of waves against the array of yachts. Casting his vision in the distance, he saw littered along a white sandy shoal, pearl cabanas their curtains screaming in the wind. For a moment it was as if he could hear them again and he cursed the appeal they had as an escape from the all too constant cacophony of a bustling metropolis . Yet with time, the ocean's assault from the peninsula from all sides was a similar torture. Perhaps the vast green dales or the red dusty plateaus would have been far kinder to his sense than this. Eager to find sanctuary, he kept his pace, surely there must be a lounge somewhere which with hushed allure of music could assuage his pain. Enveloped in thoughts of dread that there was no solace, he had not noticed the life of the city fade away as he trudged up a gradual hill. Before him, in the dull red hue of dusk lay the ruins of an abbey, long abandoned by a populace whose new worship was material but superstitious enough to let sleeping giants lie. Strangely, only its vestibule lay intact showing signs of reclamation while the rest of its walls weathered away. Intrepid, he traversed this uneven terrain wishing this ancient depository of knowledge would take him in its bosom and gift insight into his plight. Uncanny fate twisted about his ankles right then and he plunged uproariously into a subterranean cavern. The dungeon reverberated in his last throes, eternally silent.