Friday, August 15, 2008

OLD ENGLISH

The soft, rosy smell of tobacco lured me across the lawn to the fortress' edge. The waves crashed rhythmically against an old stone wall which their furor and patience would eventually claim. The cry of a sea gull carried an ambiguous mood; a shimmer of yellow light peeked shyly through the clouds.

As I came across to the embankment the old man greeted me with a cheerful laugh, waving his hand for me to join him in the coming feast. He had caught a heavy salmon on a fishing line and was starting a fire to cook his prey.

He offered me a seat across from him and as I sat on the bare, flat rock he said "Ye shall return to the old spawning ground one day, young man, and endeavor to find your mate, and all the strength and youth you have you shall use on that very date. Today is the day I lost my wife, and my old tattered bones won't carry us back to our homeland for a decent burial. So I gave her body to the sea. And in exchange I took this strong young salmon whose flesh will invigorate me -and you, if you will join me in celebration!"

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