Breakfast arrived with the same sense of same old about it. The old man mixed the oats, the skim milk and water doing what was required to cook them and a few frozen raspberries to give it a bit of taste.

He sat and ate looking out over the farm beyond his back fence.

Life he decided had a way of making living more and more difficult. Like the ebb and flow of the tide his health went in almost tidal cycles. For every good day there seemed to be a bad one to follow it. Just as one issue was dealt with another raised its ugly head and he left he was back where he started.

Doing it alone wasn’t any fun. He could whinge all he liked but there was no one to hear him, no one to care. The only ones who appeared to care were the electricity and waterman who insisted he pay his bills on time.

Continue reading: Thursday photo prompt – Ebb – #writephoto | Morpethroad