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Description
The Tide

The old man sat on the lonely beach. Staring out at the crashing waves, he sighed and thought.  His hair was gray, and he had more wrinkles, but he was not anyone but himself. He still felt the same childish glee as he sat there on the beach.  Thinking back to his childhood, a smile came to his cracked lips.

It was early May.  A young boy's dream.  The sun was shining, the snow had melted and the weather was still the gentle warmth of Spring.  He wandered the neighborhood with his best friend, whose name had slipped his mind.  They made their way to the rickety old bridge.  Bantering, the way eight year old boys should, they dared each other to cross the bridge.  As he took his first steps onto the rotten planks that formed the walkway, they creaked under his weight.  He reached the middle of the bridge, and the plank on which he stood snapped.  The fall was not bad.  The water was cool, clear and deep.  He had actually found it exhilerating.

Looking back, he knew he was lucky.  Had the water been a foot shallower, he might not be alive.  The man turned his head.  Slowly walking into his field of view was a young couple, hand in hand.  Memories came to the man like waves to the shore.

He drove his parents' car up to her house and honked the horn.  She hurried out the door, casually waving back at her parents.  She opened the passenger door and hopped in.

The old man's smile brightened as memories flooded his failing mind.

After talking a moment, he pulled away, his love in the seat beside him, and drove to a club.  He remembered the night being fun, but he did not remember any of the details, except as he dropped her off at home, the single kiss she gave him as a thank you.

The tide was rising.  The sky began to darken.  Logic told the man to move further back, or to go home.  He did not listen.

Where could she be? He wondered.  His five year old daughter's gentle breathing on his neck calmed him slightly.  Suddenly the phone rang.  He reached over to pick it up, trying not to disturb the sleeping child.  The voice on the phone said his name.  Upon his reply, the voice proved his darkest fears.  He tried to blink back the tears.  His daughter looked up at him, and in her soft voice asked, "Where's Mommy?"  He winced inwardly as he lied to her, saying she was with her sister for a while.

Water lapped at his bare, sandy feet.  He sat, a defiant stone among the waves.

His daughter looked off the stage in his direction and gave a nervous smile.  He smiled back, trying to reassure her.  She was now a young woman, yet still his little girl.  She received her diploma.  If only her mother was still here to see this...

Still rising, the tide caressed the old man.  The water was cold, but a healthy cold.  As the water rose around him, the man smiled.  He had gone through the good and bad like everyone else.  The only difference was that these were his times.  It was then he realized that no matter what life throws at you, you can overcome it.  With this thought in his mide, the tide encompased him, carrying him off to the next passage of life.

Description
The Tide

The old man sat on the lonely beach. Staring out at the crashing waves, he sighed and thought.  His hair was gray, and he had more wrinkles, but he was not anyone but himself. He still felt the same childish glee as he sat there on the beach.  Thinking back to his childhood, a smile came to his cracked lips.

It was early May.  A young boy's dream.  The sun was shining, the snow had melted and the weather was still the gentle warmth of Spring.  He wandered the neighborhood with his best friend, whose name had slipped his mind.  They made their way to the rickety old bridge.  Bantering, the way eight year old boys should, they dared each other to cross the bridge.  As he took his first steps onto the rotten planks that formed the walkway, they creaked under his weight.  He reached the middle of the bridge, and the plank on which he stood snapped.  The fall was not bad.  The water was cool, clear and deep.  He had actually found it exhilerating.

Looking back, he knew he was lucky.  Had the water been a foot shallower, he might not be alive.  The man turned his head.  Slowly walking into his field of view was a young couple, hand in hand.  Memories came to the man like waves to the shore.

He drove his parents' car up to her house and honked the horn.  She hurried out the door, casually waving back at her parents.  She opened the passenger door and hopped in.

The old man's smile brightened as memories flooded his failing mind.

After talking a moment, he pulled away, his love in the seat beside him, and drove to a club.  He remembered the night being fun, but he did not remember any of the details, except as he dropped her off at home, the single kiss she gave him as a thank you.

The tide was rising.  The sky began to darken.  Logic told the man to move further back, or to go home.  He did not listen.

Where could she be? He wondered.  His five year old daughter's gentle breathing on his neck calmed him slightly.  Suddenly the phone rang.  He reached over to pick it up, trying not to disturb the sleeping child.  The voice on the phone said his name.  Upon his reply, the voice proved his darkest fears.  He tried to blink back the tears.  His daughter looked up at him, and in her soft voice asked, "Where's Mommy?"  He winced inwardly as he lied to her, saying she was with her sister for a while.

Water lapped at his bare, sandy feet.  He sat, a defiant stone among the waves.

His daughter looked off the stage in his direction and gave a nervous smile.  He smiled back, trying to reassure her.  She was now a young woman, yet still his little girl.  She received her diploma.  If only her mother was still here to see this...

Still rising, the tide caressed the old man.  The water was cold, but a healthy cold.  As the water rose around him, the man smiled.  He had gone through the good and bad like everyone else.  The only difference was that these were his times.  It was then he realized that no matter what life throws at you, you can overcome it.  With this thought in his mide, the tide encompased him, carrying him off to the next passage of life.