The old man and the sea

*had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords/ But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert(...) he knew the depth of his tiredness(...)/The iridescent bubbles were beautiful. But they were the falsest things in the sea and the old man loved to see the big sea turtles eating them/Now is the time to think of only one thing. That which I was born for.

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