Story time

Jesse Hunter

Mrs. Fraser

Creative Writing

September 9th, 2015

The old, grey-haired man woke up to another gloomy, lonely day.

As he gazed out his condo window at the ocean, slowly floating by, he realized that he longed to be like the ocean. Slowly through life calm, and worry free. Reflecting something great, like the infinite blue sky.

          When he was young he often dreamed of being a pilot. He loved the excitement and somewhat risk that it brought. He never wanted to be in the same place for too long. The old man would always dream about being up in the cozy, fluffy, clouds where he thought he might find peace. He would search for that peace his all life, now it seems that life is getting more grey than the hair that remains on his head.

          At one point the old man became restless, nothing he was doing was bringing him any happiness or peace. His life had become an everyday trail. He would visit his wife Charlene’s grave every Tuesday with her favorite roses. Tuesdays were very hard for him, sometimes he would get angry with himself, but he always had to remind himself what his wife would’ve wanted him to be doing. But all the man could think about was the way she looked in that red dress a few days before she passed.

          One day as the old grey-haired man was walking along the beach on a cool Sunday night, he decided to just sit down and watch the ocean again. He began to realize that most of everything in life is just temporary, even his own life. And when he understood that, he got up immediately and began screaming and crying “What have I been doing all these years!” He quickly headed back to his car and drove home without saying a word. The man had found peace, not just peace, but his own peace. He was simply okay with whatever happened from there on out, he wasn’t worried about any material things or temporary things, cause his life was so black and barren. The old man said to himself “It’s time I start painting my own life.”