One day I went to the sea...to catch a fish for my dinner. Once there, I saw a man standing beside a barrel on the shore. He beckoned me. "Are you here to fish, friend?", he asked. "Yes sir, I am. For my dinner", I replied. The stranger pointed to the barrel. "Have a fish from my barrel. They are good fish. Perfect for your meal. And they are free!" The stranger went on about the quality of his fish, and that having a fish from his barrel would keep me from the risks of venturing into the deep, dangerous sea. I thanked him for his concern, as I briefly wondered who this man was, and why he stood on the shore with a barrel of fish. Where did the barrel come from? Where did the fish come from? Was he doing this out of concern for the welfare of his fellow man, or was he in some way required to do this? I looked out at the sea. Therein lie a vast number of different species of fish. All varieties for all tastes. From seabass to shark. Fish so small one might ...
Short stories, essays, ramblings, musings, and other such nonsense.