Fragments Gallery
The Storyteller: Freedom
"Tell me sailor, I asked many years ago, what is it like to sail the open seas? To wake up each morning surrounded by endless water and under clear sapphire skies? To live adrift, at the whim of the winds? What is it like to brave a storm out in the deep? To watch the raging storm claim shipmates, friends, and family while being helpless to stop it? What is it like to survive each storm knowing that the next might be your last? And the distant lands you travel to? How does it feel walk those distant shores? The marvels you must have seen, the wonders you have yet to see, must be staggering. Tell me sailor, what does sailing mean to you?"
The children stared at the Storyteller, enraptured by his words, silently asking the same questions to themselves.
"He took another swig from the bottle in his hand and swished the liquid around in his mouth. His jaws opened to answer but then slowly closed as he paused to reflect on my questions. His eyes glazed over as he relived the past… It took him some time but eventually he came back to me. It's freedom, he said, we were always free from the tyranny of man. If something went wrong in the civilized world we always had an escape. We could always choose where to take our lives; we could always choose to leave something behind. Just as even when we left, we always had the choice to come back. We bowed to no ruler beyond the sea, just as we worshiped no god beyond the wind and waves. We were our own nation; we were our own small family out on the sea…"
At this point the Storyteller lowered his voice and stared intently at the children as he finished the story.
"His voice trailed off and a tear fell from his eye. But those days are gone, I heard him murmur. Long gone."