The Old Man and the Beach

He looked out over the horizon, where the earth seemed to end, at the pastel colors of the sky. In all his years of being on this beach, he had never seen such harmony in the way the water, the sky, the clouds and the sun played. It was almost ominous. Definitely prophetic.

And then as if on cue, in his peripheral vision, he saw her. She came walking down the beach, wrapped in white linen, oblivious to his presence. She looked like the bride he never really had, the one he could have, would have had. The one he still could have. And then she saw him, but struggled to remember him. Finally it came like a tidal wave of epic proportions, and the memories nearly knocked her off her feet.

They had definitely been connected to each other somehow before- in many former lives, two souls unable to evade each other for all eternity. Perhaps they had existed previously as mother and child, husband and wife, villain and hero, or even twins. They had a history of love that preceded time itself, which could not be expressed in human terms. Fighting that inevitability, it seemed, had always kept them from ever truly living life, and all that it could possibly offer. When would it end? When would this ongoing cycle ultimately be broken? One thing is for certain; it would not be today.

Their eyes locked in a gaze and for a moment, telepathy was their language:

We belonged together. There is nothing about you that wasn't made to complement me. We fit together, like two hands locked in prayer, one thought.

I had so many memories that were near perfect; the only thing missing from them was you, the other responded.

She remembered how she had seen him in every day things, and had thought of him subconsciously as the minutes became hours, the hours became days, the days, weeks, months and then years. He had never removed himself from her heart, but because miles would part them, the parallel of their lives widened, leaving her stranded in between two lines. He would drift farther into the recesses of her memories, but would never fully exit stage left. And now here he was, before her, as beautiful as she had always envisioned he would be, his silver hair glistening like a halo.

And then a man walked up beside her, and took her hand, broke their silent communication, stole whatever reparation could have been. She took his hand and held it, though not as firm as she had always held it before. The man beside her looked at them and saw something suspicious, something eerily ancient. Something that made his love for her pale in comparison. He felt overshadowed by it, and something died in him that day too.

A thought: Do we mold our destinies everyday with our choices, or has it long since been set for us?

The couple walked away, and she smiled at the old man. And as if the radiance of her smile were enough to illuminate the skies, the sun disappeared behind the curve of the world, leaving only a dark serenity behind.

"Excuse me, sir," a young man, one that could have been him 40 years ago addressed the old man, pulling him out of the hypnosis that he had just been sucked into.

"How much are these?"

The old man stared at him, still temporarily lost in a trance in which he secretly blessed the man before him, silently praying for him to see more clearly than he himself ever had before all the things in life that were his to own.

"50 cents a piece," the old man replied. Seek out what is rightfully yours, and claim them.

"I'll take two then," the young man said and handed him some money.

The old man smiled, and handed his fading reflection his fruits and some change.

Alternate Ending:

...The couple walked away, and she smiled at the old man. And as if the radiance of her smile were enough to illuminate the skies, the sun disappeared behind the curve of the world, leaving only a dark serenity behind.
Unable to keep his eyes off her as she walked away, the old man left his stand and went walking behind the couple, leaving a comfortable distance between them. As he strolled the shore, he placed his feet in the imprints of the footsteps she had just left.

He watched the waves come in and out and baptize his feet. Suddenly, she stopped and turned around to look back at him. As they stood there, several feet away, the man holding her hand looked back and forth between them, confused by the silent communication that was taking place.

Come to me. We've waited far too long.

She took a hesitant step.

I wanted you everyday I was alive since the moment I first laid eyes on you. Ever since you told me that the day you met me, you knew I was the one for you. Even though it couldn't have been true. So why now, should I come to you?

Because a love like this, lost in time, opens up windows of opportunity once in a blue moon. It's its way of saying; here is another chance to reconcile what should be. Reconcile it with me...

She let go of the man's hand and turned to look at him.

"I've been unfair to you and to myself. It's time to fix that and it's going to hurt you. I love you and I'm sorry," she kissed his cheek and the lone tear streaming down it.

The old man walked towards her and took her hand. Together, they walked away from the broken man standing facing the ocean in search of answers. It seemed his spirit melted into the sand and when she turned back to look at him, he was gone, like he'd never existed.

She sighed and hugged the old man like she'd never again let him go. He hugged her back, relieved that justice, it seemed, had finally been served.