An old man sits on the end of an ocean-worn log on the cold winter shoreline. His body is hunched over with pain as he faces the sunset. On this evening the clouds and sky are only grey to him.
As much as his aching joints will allow he slowly fumbles with something in his once strong hands. The gold band on his left ring finger scrapes gently over and over upon the item in his grasp. He opens his palm to look at the gold ring he held, much too small for his own hands.
His fingers slowly close once again on the ring, the only part of his life left for him to hold with love and care.
Slumping down, his body trembles silently and his wrinkled eyes close with bitter tears.
