Prelude 80

Aaron gazed dreamily at the rolling waves crashing endlessly like a nagging wife on uncaring rocks, battle after battle only briefly interluded by the sea’s sulky withdrawal. He liked this place: desolate and alone, it was unfrequented by all except that occasional startled cormorant, and he came here to escape, to think. He sat hunched over, braced against the icy wind, drawing his knees together below a great white beard, his deeply creviced face crumpled in contemplation around two intelligent eyes that shone like forgotten pools of youth in an ageing desert.