The waves were loud and filled the air with a fine, salty mist. Seagulls cackled as they swooped above the foaming waves. Washed up seaweed curled around the rims of his wheelchair and you could see his shoulders sigh.
His tousled hair was pure white, resembling the ocean surf. Slouched in his mechanical chair he stared out to sea lost in thought. The ocean air played with the loose button-down shirt that hung from his thin, bony frame. His legs were weak and bowed, but his eyes were strong and he gazed at the watery horizon with a determination that comes only from countless hidden stories.
What was he thinking about, the aged man in the wheelchair?