The Island of Tark (3)

As soon as Daedalus crossed the threshold of his house, the sea breeze assailed him with a breath of fresh air. He drew a long breath.

"Ahhhh!!!" And exhaled slowly.

Then he headed for the village square. From time to time, seagulls skimmed the waves in the distance. The more daring dived into the sea in search of their daily nourishment. The rays were not very intense on these spring days. The islanders went about their business. But most lived from fishing.

Daedalus' footsteps led him to a small wooden hut. Smoke billowed from the chimney, zigzagging upwards into the sky. Daedalus knocked gently on the door.

Ten seconds later, an old man in his sixties opened the door. The man's beard and hair were completely white, a sign of his advanced age.