Bandile inhaled the distinctive smell of
the sea. He sat with eyes tightly closed on the soft sand letting the sounds of
the waves break into his soul. His fingers curled in the sand. He opened his
eyes as he picked up a handful of sand and let it slip slowly through his
fingers. He thought of the egg timer in his mother's kitchen. He tried to get
the sand to drift through his fingers at the same rate. He watched the falling
sand, mesmerised. As his hand emptied he scooped up a new handful and watched
it fall. The winter sun warmed his face and body. It was lovely and peaceful
here. People were at work and children were sitting behind their desks in
classrooms throughout the city.
He was now an outpatient at the hospital.
His mom took him on many excursions after his therapy sessions. He turned his head
to smile at her. She was getting strong enough now to help him in and out of
the chair. His arms were becoming stronger and he was able to support his
weight for longer lengths of time. In the beginning his family had taken turns
to attend his therapy sessions so that they could learn how to help him and
most importantly when to help him but now it was mainly his mom who took him
about. He really enjoyed their excursions. The bond between him and his mother
had grown. They had always been close but now she seemed able to anticipate his
every need, his every want.
He turned to look at the water and watched
a little dog bounding at the small waves as they broke on the shore, yapping as
he snapped at them. A whistle pierced the air and the dog bounded over to an
elderly man clutching a Frisbee. He repeatedly bounced up to try to catch the
Frisbee. It was as if he was telling the man "Come on now! Play with
me!"
The man took the hint and threw the Frisbee. The dog bounded after it, jumped at it and caught it before it hit the ground. Bandile smiled as he watched the dog catch throw after throw. He remembered how bad he had been when he first tried to catch one.
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