Foam Apes
Fanatics of the sea foam, forever frozen to the isolated island. Tailors of the teal waves, creators of the cerulean sea. The forever harbingers, the surf singers the foam apes. Deep within the mighty storms eyes a small island rides the waves, guided by the steady hand of the monkey. They stand on the shore, hands gesture and point, bodies sway and flow. They ride the island which in turn rides the storm.
The forever blue is bent to the will of the apes. They swing the storm around the great sea, away from ships, islands and continents. They seek only the basest pleasures in life, utter freedom. Away from humanity and the greed that comes with it. They look for nothing else than the rise of the sun and the new day.
For thousands of years the foam apes have rode the island on the sea, they will continue to do so. Until the oceans rise, until humanity shrinks back and the sun and stars combine.
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