text: [Themes: Fantasy, magical realism, contemplative, animals, nature]
  
  > Go downwards
  You fill your lungs to capacity and dive into the water.
  
  Underwater, (drifting)
  The gradually sloping ocean floor is only about ten feet below the surface here. The sandy bottom is layered with a suspension of mud and fine silt. Here and there, thin leaved plants claw through the mud like grasping fingers. Dominating the entire area is an enormous slab of barnacle encrusted rock.
  
  The crab, which had resumed its perch on top of the rock, scuttles back into the fissure on your approach.
  
  > look at the rock
  It's a huge slab of porous, white rock, longer than you are tall and rising half your height from the muck of the ocean floor. Its scabrous surface has been eroded cruelly by time and tide, and a deep fissure cuts through it, nearly cleaving it in two. Tiny creatures crawl through the barnacles encrusting its gnarled surface, and small, broad leaved plants cling tenaciously to it.
  
  A few small bubbles escape your lips, glittering in the light as they rise towards the surface.
  
  The crab sends forth one probing eye stalk, then hastily withdraws it.
  
  Pressure starts to build in your lungs.
  
  > Go upward
  Lungs burning, you kick and claw your way toward the glittering sunlight above you. Gasping, you break the surface and fill your lungs with the salty ocean air.
  
  Deep Water, South of Pier, (treading water)
  There's nothing but endless ocean to the east. Shallower waters beckon to the west. The long cement pier finally comes to an end to the north of you, its supporting pylons disappearing into the murky depths.
  
  A rather large wave surges over your head, leaving you momentarily sputtering.
  
  > go to the west
  You kick back towards shore, skimming along for a few yards before coming to rest in shallower water.
  
  Shallow Water, South of Pier
  You're up to your knees in the gently surging tide. It flows up onto the beach to the west and grows deeper to the east. To the north, you can pass among the pylons supporting the pier.
  
  > go north
  Shallow Water, Beneath Pier
  The knee-deep water here is cooled by the shadow of the pier, which here rises to almost three times your height. A pair of metal pipes run the length of it, presumably a part of the pavilion's plumbing. The avenue of supporting pylons leads west, on to the sand, and also continued into deeper water to the east. You can escape the pier's chilly shadow to the north or south.
  
  > Go west
  You splash merrily out of the shallow water, on to the hard packed sand.
  
  Damp Sand, Beneath Pier
  You stand in the cool shadow of the long pier, among its supporting pylons. The pylons lead east like a subterranean avenue. A pair of pipes runs the length of the pier, presumably a part of the pavilion's plumbing. To the west, the dunes that surround the pavilion part to allow passage beneath it. You can escape the pier's chilly shadow to the north or south.
  The beach is littered with broken bottles and blue plastic shards.
  
  A tiny crab rushes from an invisible hole by your feet and scuttles away, quickly disappearing into another, equally invisible hole.
  
  A flash of light catches your eyes. It seems to have originated from the pipes running overhead.
  
  > examine the broken bottles
  The bottles litter the beach, many of them shattered into sharp, dangerous fragments. Spread among the broken glass are numerous thin, blue, plastic shards, the only remainders of the recycling canister.
  
  > get the broken bottles
  You've already got one. If you want to take another, perhaps you should dispose of that one first.
  
  > look at what you're carrying with you
  You have a pair of shorts (being worn), a bathing suit (being worn), a pair of goggles (being worn), and a single glass bottle (containing salt water).
  The pocket of your shorts seems to contain some money and your passcard.
  
  > pour Water on the castle
  Which water do you mean, the salt water, or the ocean water?
  
  > Salt
  The salt water spills out of the glass bottle and rejoins the elements.
  
  > put the insect in the bottle
  It's difficult, because they're so small... but you lean in close, follow one likely specimen, and... got it! You cram the mite through the mouth of the water filled the bottle. It worked! You've got it! The tiny mite is floating around on the surface of the water. Uh oh. You watch as the mite begins to paddle its six (or eight) legs furiously, headed for the bottom of the bottle. Whatever you're going to do with the mite, you'd better do it soon.
  
  > Go north
  Damp Sand, Beneath Pier
  You stand in the cool shadow of the long pier, among its supporting pylons. The pylons lead east like a subterranean avenue. A pair of pipes runs the length of the pier, presumably a part of the pavilion's plumbing. To the west, the dunes that surround the pavilion part to allow passage beneath it. You can escape the pier's chilly shadow to the north or south.
  The beach is littered with broken bottles and blue plastic shards.
  
  A tiny crab rushes from an invisible hole by your feet and scuttles away, quickly disappearing into another, equally invisible hole.
  
  The mite continues its furious paddling. It's almost to the bottom of the bottle.
  
  A flash of light catches your eyes. It seems to have originated from the pipes running overhead.
  
  > pour the salt water on the broken bottles
  You toss the bottle containing the mite onto the pile, where it shatters on impact. For a moment, nothing happens. Then you detect a tiny whiff of smoke. Other than that, still nothing. You're just about ready to give up on your plan when you spot a writhing black line in the sand. Holy cow! It's a living stream made up of the tiny crustaceans. Seconds later they swarm over the pile of broken glass. Before your astonished eyes they start dissolving the bottles and shards into tiny molten beads. They carry the fiery glass to the middle of the pile. Then come the towers, sprouting like overgrown stacks of soap bubbles. The bulbous, head-sized building blocks budding before you are actually rough spheres of sand-filled glass. Apparently, with such an abundance of material to work with, the mites are building on a much larger scale. Higher and higher climb the towers, until they nearly brush the bottom of the pier. An abrupt flash of color catches your eye. A sheet of thin blue plastic, once part of the glass recycling canister, is floating across the floor. Now that you've noticed it, there are pieces of plastic in motion all around you, each levitating a fraction of an inch above the ground. Instead of melting the plastic down, the mites carry the sheets to the perimeters of the tower and begin incorporating them into a spiraling ramp. Step by step, the ramp corkscrews up and around until it wraps the pinnacle of the tallest tower. Finally, all growth ceases. The finished structure looms over twice your height.
  
  Somehow this amazing spectacle has cut through your ingrained layers of cynicism to revitalize your waning belief in a world full of wondrous novelty. It's enough to get you thinking about work again, in particular the way the same backdrop day after day has dulled your expectation for novelty.
  
  You're feeling confused. "I didn't realize how serious I was about quitting," is what you're now thinking. The truth is, you didn't really believe you were going to find the motivation to quit here on the beach. But it's hard to ignore the wonder of what you've seen. Maybe you really could quit. Still, you're going to need a lot more convincing.
  
  Looking around, you spot one ancient, discolored bottle that was passed up by the mites.
  
  > examine bottle
  It's an ancient rum bottle, aged to the color of dull copper, and sealed with a thick sheath of blood red wax. Much of its surface has been tinged an opaque sea green by the elements. Ribbons of oily color twist through the splotchy patches of copper and green.
  
  > look at the bottle
  It's an ancient rum bottle, aged to the color of dull copper, and sealed with a thick sheath of blood red wax. Much of its surface has been tinged an opaque sea green by the elements. Ribbons of oily color twist through the splotchy patches of copper and green.
  
  A tiny crab rushes from an invisible hole by your feet and scuttles away, quickly disappearing into another, equally invisible hole.
  
  > take the bottle
  Taken.
  
  A flash of light catches your eyes. It seems to have originated from the pipes running overhead.
  
  > open the bottle
  Age and the elements have frosted the bottle nearly opaque, so you hold it up to the light of the setting sun. The orange rays flash through the bottle's glossy patina, casting a dazzling kaleidoscope into your eyes. The burst of light reveals what seems to be a rolled up sheet of parchment. You start peeling the aged wax from the bottle. It's so desiccated that it crumbles into flakes which float away on the light evening breeze. The cork pulls loose from the bottle with a small pop. You insert a finger into the bottle and slide out a rolled up parchment. Unrolling it reveals... a treasure map! It must be at least a hundred years old. Clearly, it was fashioned in another time. Thick black strokes grace the rich parchment, drawn in a purposeful hand. Fanciful trace works embellish the borders, and a spidery compass rose resides in one corner. The black strokes describe the chain of islands dominating the Savannah coast. One island in particular bears a bold red X. You examine the marker closer. Why, that's right here on Tybee Island!
  
  > read the map
  The black strokes describe the chain of islands dominating the Savannah coast. One island in particular bears a bold red X. You examine the marker closer. It seems to be a bit west of here.
  
  A thin crest of white foam glides up the beach and covers your toes before gently receding.
  
  > examine ramp
  You feel as though you're looking at the original castle through a microscope. Everything looks quite similar, from the beaded droplets to the climbing towers, but oh, so much larger. The rounded building blocks of this castle are nearly the size of your head, and the tallest spires stand well over twice your height, climbing nearly to the underside of the pier. The ramp that spirals up and around the tower's circumference is paved with sheets of blue plastic and seems wide enough to stand on. Swarming over and through the castle's glossy crystalline surface are hoards of the tiny crustacean castle builders.