Gaunt. Eyes sunken in. Cheekbones protruded beneath taut skin. The man twisted around taking note of the rising sun. Colors intertwined above creating hints of deep red submerged by the usual oranges and pinks. The lake was still, fully hushed. The water engulfed the scene like that of paint upon canvas. He took a knee, carefully listening, as if the waking sun were whispering his next move. As the sun rose into place for its day ahead, the man's eyes wandered to the ground. His once clear mind was now in a haze. Could this be a dream? The trance had been broken as he stepped over the body and grasped the shovel…
Photo Credit: Jane Yolen's, The Sea Man
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