aLOnE

The fisherman stands in his boat, alone. Out in the sea, alone. The water catches the moon and reflects her light, alone.

The sea dances quietly to the rhythm of the waves, alone. The fisherman stares out into the darkness, alone. The boat rocks, alone.

He casts the net to his right and waits, alone. His shadow mimics his every move, alone. Sinuous in the silence, alone.

Boat and man and sea are at one, alone. He buries his wrinkled face into his hands, alone. He needs to hide and be, alone.

“Don’t cry, little one. It’s going to be OK.”