For some reason he can't swim anymore. The waves are pounding him into submission. His head is under water. He can see the distorted figure of a man on the beach. He hopes the lone figure can see his hand. He hopes he could gather enough strength to scream. All he can muster is a muffled whimper. The sun is setting. The water is getting colder and darker. His last hope is the stranger with the sunglasses.
He is standing on the beach. It is time for the sun to set. He has been here innumerable times. Wishing and hoping. Wishing he could see the sunset. Wishing he wasn't blind.
....Well almost 55 :D
1 comment:
heheh ...good good. go for fifty five!
Post a Comment