He came.

I knew it.

He comes every winter.

In July.

On the sixth day.

At eleven o’clock �?and he stays for exactly 20 minutes.

All the time he stares at the foamy waves. They break onto the heavenly white sands. The only time he moves is when he is summoned. This is rare. I know no-one who has something �?why should I? I am a commoner. He has seen me before �?lots of times. I’m not sure that he likes me. When he sees me, I usually flee for the house.

Each year he is sadder and sadder. If I could ask him a few questions I would be more than happy.

What is he?

Who is he?

Why does he come?

These are the questions I fear to ask every winter. Yet these are the questions that I shall ask soon�?

Let me tell you more�?

Two weeks ago, I made a bet that I would ask these questions to the ghost.

My friend said, " I bet you can’t speak to that weird man!"

" How much?" I muttered foolishly.

" Two hundred dollars, " he grinned.

If I had that much money I could buy a new horse. So here I was. Here he was. And here was a great chance to get some big dollars.

" Hi! " I mumbled.

" Greetings, " he murmured.

" Where you from? " I asked inquisitively.

" The ocean. " He attempted a smile with a tear in his eye.

Ding! Dong! I had just won two hundred dollars.

I ran away happily.

All the time the man stared at me with the same crystal clear tear welling in his eye.

Finally, it rolled from his cheek, piercing the ground.

By: Walter 4W

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