He had made a small hut beside the sea. On days of the tide, the sea would stretch to the place his home was. He had made two doors on the opposite sides of the wall – one from which the sea came in; the other, it went out. On these days he had plenty of sea creatures passing through his home. Some of these he really loved to watch whilst he sat on his bed – like the gray crabs, jellyfishes, fishermen and a few ships from the distant land. He had learnt quite a few languages from the foreigners on the different ships; found a few friends in the sailors who would pass in through his hut every now and then with their ships.
One day it started to rain and it didn’t stop. After a few days or perhaps, months, he found a huge ship coming in through his door.
“Which land are you coming from?” he asked them in different languages.
“Land?” they replied, surprised, “There’s no land. The rain’s taken it all. We live in different ships. Each a country.”
So, the world started coming in through one of his door and going out of the other.
After he died, people claimed he was the greatest voyager of all times.
What an amazing story! It reminded me of my grandmother who sat on the verandah steps every evening and waited for people to gather and tell her the events of the day and then she slowly swelled up and glowed with every passing hour. Indeed, voyages without moving a step.
We do all live in different ships. Not all of us are as willing to let the world sail through…is this what made him a great voyager?
Well done.
Thanks, Jane, for sharing this wonderful tale with your Grandma in it.
Smile.
As I’ve always said, Ivy, The possibilities are infinite and I like the interpretations that way too.
There are no correct interpretation to any of my tales.
Smile.
Love your blog! Will keep visiting…