The Man Woke Up

The man woke up, and rolled over on the south end of the wooden dock on the west end of the dark pond. He drank the leftover remains from the residue of cooked black eyed peas that were days old. His hands were cracked and strayed with old fishing line that looked weathered and felt like corded rock. His look was brightened like the shades of a thousand lightblubs, gleaming down into his eyes and even further down through his soul. His moment hadn't yet come.