While at Ease

“I never really spoke to you about my family, did I?” he asked looking at me and his voice was soft.

She glanced at him, feeling that there was much more than what he actually said. “No, but I’d love to hear about them.” Your stories are like parts of you that I am yet to come across.

He grinned and nodded, but his face was still serious. ‘My father was a fisherman,’ he started. “Not the sort who ventured out into the vast deep-sea but the sort who remained right on the edge of the shore.” He loved this coast and he knew the rocks and the currents as if it was yesterday. He used to take me for a small fishing trip and I would sit on the boat for hours listening to him narrate stories of the ocean. Some of them were real, some… well, let’s just say that he was a great orator.”

Phoebe listened, captivated. “I think you were friends.”

Oliver just nodded, and for a moment there was a brief look of sorrow in his eyes. “We were, but… he passed when I was thirteen. A heart attack. It was
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