3,000 days of sun. Continuous blinding fury. The shade is minimal, fleeting, and scant help. I spend the afternoons carving coconut husks into shapes of memories and delusions, fast sipping aged rum. Sleeping away the rest of the timeless moments, A perfect Buffett fantasy. But i was getting restless. A wisp of a cloud crossed the sun as i finished my latest masterpiece. I downed the last of my bottle and got up. I needed something to do.