Старик и море

           Helookedacrosstheseaandknewhowalonehewasnow. Buthecouldseetheprismsinthedeepdarkwaterandthelinestretchingaheadandthestrangeundulationofthecalm. Thecloudswerebuildingupnowforthetradewindandhelookedaheadandsawaflightofwildducksetchingthemselvesagainsttheskyoverthewater, thenblurring,thenetchingagainandheknewnomanwaseveraloneonthesea. 

           Hethoughtofhowsomemenfearedbeingoutofsightoflandinasmallboat andknewtheywererightinthemonthsofsuddenbadweather. Butnowtheywereinhurricanemonthsand,whentherearenohurricanes, theweatherofhurricanemonthsisthebestofalltheyear. 

           Ifthereisahurricaneyoualwaysseethesignsofitintheskyfordaysahead,ifyouareatsea. Theydonotseeitashorebecausetheydonotknowwhattolookfor,hethought. Thelandmustmakeadifferencetoo,intheshapeoftheclouds. Butwehavenohurricanecomingnow. 

           Helookedattheskyandsawthewhitecumulusbuiltlikefriendlypilesoficecream andhighabovewerethethinfeathersofthecirrusagainstthehighSeptembersky. 

           "Lightbrisa,"hesaid. "Betterweatherformethanforyou,fish." 

           Hislefthandwasstillcramped,buthewasunknottingitslowly. 

           Ihateacramp,hethought. Itisatreacheryofone’sownbody.Itishumiliatingbeforeotherstohaveadiarrhoeafromptomainepoisoningortovomitfromit. Butacramp,hethoughtofitasacalambre,humiliatesoneselfespeciallywhenoneisalone.