fisherman

in an old land, a salty sea churned beyond the shores. there was a man
who fished the waters of that sea. every day, he woke before dawn and
set out in the darkness, out into that broad expanse to cast his nets
again and again all day long. between the time he cast his nets and
drew them back in, he dreamed. he dreamed with his eyes wide open,
understanding they were only dreams and nothing more than the air of
his mind. he dreamed of never having to wake up before dawn to set out
on the ocean, never needing to cast his nets and pull them in, that he
lived far inland in a great mansion and that every need could be met
with a snap of his fingers. he dreamed this every day.

the man had a wife and a son, but he never talked to them of this
dream. time passed. he grew older, and his son grew old enough to join
him. when the boy joined him, the man had no time to dream. anytime he
started to drift off, the boy would ask him what he was thinking
about. embarrassed, the man would always answer that he was thinking
of the boy's mother. then he would change the subject, and he and the
boy would talk about this and that.

as the days and weeks passed, the man felt a change come over him. he
didn't mind waking up before dawn so much, did not mind going out to
fish, because he had his son with him, and whenever he was about to
drift off into dream, the boy would draw him back and they would talk
about this and that.

one night, he had a dream, but not the old one. the old dream had
faded away. instead, he dreamed he was out in the ocean with his son,
and they were fishing. when his eyes started to drift away, his son
asked him what he was thinking, and they talked about this and that.

and the man couldn't tell if he was dreaming or he was awake.

ghost