There was fire below and snow atop. There were the gentle whales, the sweet fruits, and as I was told, death in the shape of a young man on the black rocks. Tousled seaweed and black crabs on his glazed eyes. Empty but still with the surprised look that comes from being shot in the back. After the helicopter came and they took him away, lifting him upwards into the heavens, the crack of thunder and the heavy rain.