The early morning beach is quiet. The sun is barely awake. Gulf ripples lightly kiss the shore. The old man plods, and the sand sighs with each step. He totes a sack full of sins, but there is no one to speak with and listen to his apologies. To lighten his load, to nod and offer opinions. To be a friend.
He thinks someone is standing near the lifeguard station and shuffles faster, closer, and closer until he stops and wipes his eyes. The weathered sign says, “CAUTION: Rip currents today.”
He says, “Thank you,” and moves on.
He thinks someone is standing near the lifeguard station and shuffles faster, closer, and closer until he stops and wipes his eyes. The weathered sign says, “CAUTION: Rip currents today.”
He says, “Thank you,” and moves on.
