~Ljstagflower4e (formerly known as Jctigerwolf4e!)
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Glancing up from his rowing, the old man saw the city lights in the harbor merrily twinkling his arrival. Paddling slowly and steadily he
brought the boat onto the shore and climbed out carefully, his legs unsteady from the weeks at sea in the tiny skiff. The old man smiled, "He
didn't beat me," he said to himself looking over at the Marlin, still floating in the surf. He had worried earlier, seeing two fins circling in the distant
waters, but the sharks had found another catch, perhaps the dolphin he had passed floating on the surface. But he had made it back to shore,
his prize in tow and he had never seen sand look so beautiful. Dragging the marlin through the surf over to where his hut met the sea, he tied it to
the post and walked wearily into his hut, the smile still firmly fixed in place on his face. Lying in his bed that night he wondered what the boy had
done while he was gone, and how many more home runs the great DiMaggio had scored. He wondered what the villagers had said about him
while he was gone; he knew they though him to be too old to catch anything worthwhile. As sleep slowly overcame him, his thoughts drifted to the
Marlin, the majestic fish he had seen swimming freely in the ocean, and to the lifeless marlin lying outside his hut and he wondered id he had
been wrong in taking the marlin.
Waking late the next morning the old man rose quietly and went outside. He walked over to where the marlin lay and clasped his sore
hands behind his back thoughtfully. Looking at the huge fish lying before him in the sand he knew that the beautiful fish belonged in the sea. He
felt ashamed to have been so focused on catching the fish he hadn't stopped to think of the fish itself. The old man knew what he had to do.
Bending over the fish he untied it from the fencepost and pushed it out to sea. Bowing his head the old man whispered, "goodbye my friend,
goodbye my enemy, I am sorry." He watched until he could not see the fish anymore. He had respect for the fish that had so valiantly fought
against him and out of respect for the fish, he let him go, not wanting the villagers to see the proud fish in such a state. The old man turned and
sat down in the shade under the palm tree by his hut. "I'm sorry," he whispered again, his words catching the breeze and flying out to sea to join
the fish that had changed his life in so many different ways.