Prologue

John looked up from his chair right as the sun began its final descent into the ocean. He grabbed his glass of Sangria, took a long cold sip, and walked into the water, following a long, red beam that seemed to lead right into the sun. He walked until he couldn’t walk anymore, and the water swallowed him up. He wasn’t much of a swimmer, but the water was crisp and cool and filled him with a sense of exhilaration. 

It was like a baptism. 

He had been in New Zealand for 6 months now, and had taken several such plunges into the ocean since he had gotten here. It was one of the first things he did when he got off the plane and got himself situated, and he came back nearly every day to engage in a similar ritual. Some days there was wine, some days there wasn’t, but for the most part the drinking was under control. For the most part.

 He had made the decision to come to New Zealand as he visited his family farm for the last time. He knew he needed a major change, and he was about as far away from home as one could find on a map. So far things were good. He had a low key job as a psychologist a few days a week, and was enjoying helping others, despite the fact he was so far from home. He had learned that fundamentally people’s problems were mostly the same, despite the change in geography. It had been a wonderful learning experience. 

He toweled himself off and began to pack up his chair, his music and his wine. He turned up the music and heard the familiar sounds of the Allman Brothers,

‘Let your soul shine,

It's better than sunshine,

It's better than moonshine,

Damn sure better than rain.’

Seeing the amazing sunset as the sun gave way to night, he was sure the Allmans were right.

It was damn sure better than rain.