The tired and weary old man shuffles slowly to the end of the night blackend pier. Left alone with his thoughts, he struggles to sit with his feet dangling over the edge. He sits still, his breathing nearly nonexistent and stares at his dancing moonlit reflection. He sees himself rippling in the tide, moving effortlessly in the dark waters. Alive, awake, full of vigor and hope. Who he sees he does not know but he wishes to be. The old man leans forward slowly and without fear. He closes in on the rippling mass but falls to far and passes beyond its' nourishing existence. The man sinks deeper, bewildered by his misguiding eyes. Both he and his reflection fall as one and quietly die.
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