The Man and the Seal

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Just an exercise in more emotional short story telling.

Submitted: March 08, 2016

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Submitted: March 08, 2016



The Sun finds its way to the edge of the horizon as Sunbeams dart across the rolling sea.

The old man sits on a bench that is just a few feet from the edge of a dock.

A Seagull preens its feathers while sitting on top of a dock's post, its cousin glides leisurely by.

The old man, with ice chest and fishing pole, closes his eyes and breaths in the salty air. His eyes open and then grow heavy, closing once again.

Bark, --- Bark, a Seals sound awakens him for just one moment, then he drifts off again.

The Seal swims back and forth in front of the man, watching him at every turn and glide. Every so often it stops, its big Doe eyes staring intently, and then it starts swimming again. Finally the Seal slides effortlessly up on the dock and glides over to the man. At that moment the old man feels a cold, wet, nose nuzzling into his half-closed fist, he looks down and smiles.

Those big doe eyes stare up at him calmly, patiently, from an odd position. The Seal has its head resting on the bench's seat and its nose still firmly nuzzled in the man's fist.

The old man reaches over and opens the small ice-chest, pulling from it one of today's catch; a very smelly Rock-Cod.

The Seal quickly backs away, its head reared back and high in the air, then it barks.

Into the air the fish flies and the Seal reacts in an instant; the fish is gone. Out of the cooler comes a second fish, it too is history. Then the old man pulls the final fish from the cooler and throws it. The Seal catches that one too, but this time it holds it in its mouth in a playful manner.

The old man laughs and the fish disappears.

"They are all gone," the old man tells the Seal. "Look, see for yourself, all gone. With that said the old man tips the cooler so that the Seal can gets its nose in there to inspect it.

The seal moves closer and nuzzles its nose in the man's hand again, then the man pats the Seal on the head before it slips off the dock and back into the Sea; gone until another day.

Once more, the old man leans back against the bench.

He closes his weary eyes as the Seagull preens its feathers and its cousin’s glide leisurely by.


D. Thurmond / JEF03-07-2016

© Copyright 2018 D. Thurmond, aka, JEF. All rights reserved.

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