There was a man drifting through the endless leagues of the ocean. He was by himself, set out on a raft from his tiny island. His hopes were to find life, to finally escape where he had come from. And one day, he came upon a small tower, out of place in the shapeless surroundings of the sea.

The man crept upon the tiny shore supporting the tower. Ageless barnacles scattered across the base of the stone wall. The man staggered and stood himself against the tower side. He looked above, some fifty feet high.

The man pulled himself around the tower, trying to find a way inside. To no avail, there wasn't a door nor a ladder to climb. But he did manage to find an alternative way up. Small holes, just big enough to grab on to, were placed through-out the height of the tower. The man started to climb.

The man gathered up all the strength he had, and pulled himself up the rocky side of the tower. After an intesne struggle, he reached the top. He pulled himself over the edge, and landed in a bed of soil.

The man, not knowing what to do, reached into his pocket and pulled out an apple core saved from his last meal on the raft. As he took one last bite, a seed fell from the apple and landed into the soil. The man took one last look at the core and threw it into the ocean below. He set his head back on the wall, ready to let go. The man had nothing else to plan for, so why not spend the last hours of life in a nice cool place?

Suddenly, there was a loud rumble; something from under him began to shake. A tiny branch started to weave its way out of the soil, and quickly grew into a bigger branch. Two branches, three, four. It continued to grow in this exceeding manner, and in minutes, there was a full-grown tree before the man.

The man, astonished at what had happened before his eyes, reached up and took an apple from the tree. He brought it down to his eyes, and examined it. It was ruby red, and shined from the suns rays. The man drew closer to the apple, and took a great bite. It was the sweetest he had ever tasted.