Hamlet of Zephyr

I met him in a place called Zephyr. He wore an old brown torn up hooded sweatshirt, drawn up and over his face. His hands were grimy, and his dog looked half starved and mad eyed. He asked me what I was looking for.

I said I was looking for him.

He grunted in derision, then took me by the hand and led me into the thicket surrounding the four houses that made up Zephyr. We walked for what must have been miles. Me never asking questions, him never answering them.

Finally we came to a small lake. The surface was crystalline, with a perfect island in the center. On it, a swan sat, atop a pile of old clothes.

"You have finally found it. Is it what you expected?"
"No. But nothing ever is"