Digging his feet deep into the sand, he pushed his boat out to sea one shove at a time.
Balancing carefully, he climbed over the prow.
His fishing net lay limp in the back of the boat. He didn’t need it where he was going, but he didn’t want to part with it.
Alone on the water, he could hear every creak of the boat and his back, the rasp of the oars against their casings, and the chuckling lap of the water against the sides.
This was home.