Immortality

The sunny afterglow of a day gone wrong was not enough for the young man.
He needed answers. He needed hope.
He was tired of looking into the sky for what he knew he’d never find.
Aimlessly he trudged along the lonely, empty beach,
Struggling to remain fixed in his shoes as murky, white-tipped waves beckoned him.
He longed to join them in their definite, infinite swirl though the sand would not let him go.
A ragged seagull with jagged feathers and a cracked bill circled closely above and the young man sighed.
Quickly recognizing his predicament, the bird snickered and with his piloting skills,
Taunted his prey as he staggered toward the jetty in hopeless bid to take refuge.
When he gripped the slippery, algae-covered rock, his palm gave way to an unstable footing sending him backwards into the chilly surf,
And when the bird bore down upon him, he smiled at his foe.
Sinking ever deeper into the sand, the young man cried out with each peck and bite
And more gulls came.  All of them ugly, disheveled, mean.
In the final retreat of day’s last light, the cycle was complete, and
Under flickering shadows of scattering wings, rushing waters raced forward,
Sweeping up after the filthy feast.
And after one wave more, he was gone.

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