In the Bar I had gulped down far too many drinks. I was feeling sorry for myself. Life can be hard. After an argument with the Barman I left and went down to the sands.
It was hot but the sea was nearly empty. The huge waves kept everyone from swimming. Apart from one brave person who stood bracing himself against the waves. Every so often a big one would nearly throw him over. Crashing over his shoulders and moving towards me.
I began to worry about him. His face seemed familiar. I motioned for him to come to shore. He didn’t seem to see me. I shouted, “Come in. The waves are too strong!” He seemed not to hear me. After five minutes or so I started to wade out towards him. My trousers were soaked and I was shivering.
When I reached where he was I said, “Can I give you a hand? Help you towards the safety of the sands?”
He smiled and answered, “Thank you for your concern. I am fine. Quite safe. Safer than you.”
I stood silent beside him.
After ten minutes of feeling the waves crashing against me he said, “I ache for the sorrow that is in you. Try as hard as you can to forget all your worries. Enjoy this moment.”
Intense feelings rose and fell inside me.
I turned away from him and looked towards the shore. I could not see the shore. All I could see was the waves. And the mist of sea droplets. All I could hear was the roar of the waves crashing over me and around me. The taste of salt stung my mouth and nose. Yet it was not unpleasant. The grey waves with their white tips rolled over my waist and moved past me. Their power and beauty I knew as I had never truly known anything before. I was part of the pattern that was the waves.
I turned to ask his name. But he had gone. There had been no need to ask, for I had always known his name.
The waves were cool. But they were not cold.


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