Still Waters.

The wind blew gently. He held his palm up to feel the breeze, it was cooler than the air, but not by much. The sun and its heat were slowly dipping into the water he stared at. The ripples had stilled and quickly the liquid looked like solid glass. He marveled at the beauty of it.

He wished he had learned to swim. He imagined the water to be a refreshing change to the heat of the afternoon. He saw children, families and couples walking the shoreline. The couples through the shallow water, hand in hand, feeling it over their feet. The children splashed about as their parents yelled at them. He smiled. Summer was a time for families and lovers.

He remembered walking along shores with pants rolled up to avoid getting soaked. His hand firmly latched on to the woman he loved at that particular moment. He remembered his children splashing around. He even remembered yelling at them. Of course those days were gone now. The lovers aged. His wife long dead, his children grown and gone.

He was an old man, just watching the still waters. He took off his shoes and socks, rolling up his pants as he had done in his youth. He wanted to feel the water again, perhaps it would make him happy once more. He slid off the bridge and for a few moments the cool water made him happier than he had been in years.

Still Waters.

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