Kuto’s life was filled with revulsion. He had been living in Saint Barthélemy for years, and the island had become a prison to him. The green cyclist cap that he always wore was a mockery of his once-great hopes and dreams. His hair color was dark grey, and his face was shaved clean. He wore a green bomber jacket, but it did nothing to keep the cold out.
He had been planning his escape for months, and finally, the day arrived. He took one last look at the island that had been his home for so long, and then he set out into the open sea.
The wind whipped at his face as he sailed away from Saint Barthélemy, but he didn’t care. He was free now, free from the revulsion that had consumed him for so long.