AdriftGibson had been adrift in the ocean for fifteen days when he started to see the flowers.
On most of the days since the Ocean Flyer went down his little orange life-raft had stood becalmed, the eye of a hush filling the whole world. On some days the winds whipped the sea into sudden mountain ranges. Peaks he ascended and crashed down and ascended for hours on end. Long, gruelling hours when each moment looked to be his last.
He'd clung on, survived both calm and storm. In all that time one thing remained unchanged. He had no idea where in the wide ocean he was.
The life-raft carried the essentials to keep him alive. A solar water purification unit, dried food, a fishing line, flares. But no radio, no GPS. All that had gone with the Ocean Flyer. The exact events were a blur. The per
