The Old Man by the Sea
A short story
Patrick’s Parables
A short story
There once was an old man who sat under a tree by the ocean. Every day, he felt the cool breeze of the sea air, drew his name in the sand, and sat quietly under the tree. The old man had lived long and found the sea as his equal.
One day, a young man came around. Curious about what the old man was doing under the tree, he walked to him and asked, “Excuse me, sir, what are you doing here under this tree by the sea?”
“Enjoying it,” the old man stated. His voice was strong for a man of his age. A rich, deep voice one might not expect.
The young man turned his gaze toward the ocean waves and listened to the rush of the wind and the sizzling of the sea foam as it hit the shore. The young man spoke again. “Do you live here? Where is your house? Do you work here?”
“Yes,” he stated.
The young man rolled his eyes at the simple answer and walked toward the water. He kicked off his clothes and began to play. He laughed, tumbling around, allowing himself to be taken from wave to wave. Sometimes, his foot would scrape a shell, and even though it hurt, the young man played anyway.
Back on the shore, the old man watched and smiled.
After what seemed like many years, the young man was finished playing and walked back to shore. His skin had become wrinkled, his skin dry and burned red from the sun, and his hair white with sand. He turned to speak to the old man, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Now alone, he sat in the tree’s shade and rested. He enjoyed the sound of the waves, the birds flying in the air, and the cool, salty sea air.
Suddenly, a young man came around. Noticing someone sitting alone under the tree, he asked, “Excuse me, sir. What are you doing here under this tree by the sea?”
“Enjoying it,” the old man said.