The old man sat out on his deck with a bottle of scotch and an unopened pack of Winston's. The scotch was open and almost empty. The sun was still up because it was mid July. The old man couldn't stay up much later. He left the cigarettes and shuffled back into his home. He lived in a trailer on short stilts along the beach. A neighbor had built the deck for him last Summer.

It was too far of a shuffle to the bedroom so the old man slowly sat down on the orange sofa. It was still covered in cat hair even though the cat had been dead for years.

The old man put the bottle down next to the couch. The windows were open and he could hear the waves crash along the coast. The old man briefly thought of the turtle nest he had spotted a year ago. He wondered if it was a year ago. He loved the sound of the ocean.

The old man woke up two hours before sunrise. He had done this since he moved here. The old man pulled a flannel blanket up to his chin and listened. He wanted to look at the picture he kept on top of the t.v. but he knew he couldn't see it from here. So he closed his eyes. He could see it clearly this way.

The old man woke around 4:45 in the morning. It never took him long to get up, even when he slept on the couch. He poured himself a cup of cool coffee that he had made the day before. The old man worked on a crossword puzzle he had started last Saturday. He held his coffee in one hand and a magnifying glass in the other. He would put the cup down briefly to scratch his face from time to time. 48 Across was giving him trouble.

"Gambler's plunge," he scratched his face. The old man would not give up. But he knew wars were won with small victories. So he put the crossword away and put a coat on. He slipped on a pair of rope sandals next to the couch and picked up the scotch bottle. He had bought the sandals from a boy the last time he went to Mexico. The old man smiled.

He opened the door. The glow of sun reaching around the Earth's curve seemed new to him every morning. Probably due to his fading vision, he thought. Every morning he thought that. He stood there for a while, letting the breeze enter his body. He was half the size of himself thirty years ago.

The old man picked up the pack of Winston's and put them in his breast pocket. He started walking down the North Carolina coastline towards where he thought the sea turtle nest was hidden. The glow from the east began to increase slowly and the wind from the sea started to warm. He closed his eyes for most of the walk. He forgot about the sea turtles.

"Gambler's plunge," he mumbled.

He could hear the water and feel the sand. But his mind was in another place. His eyes were closed and he enjoyed being sober. He thought of the woman for a moment. But even she was fading. He knew the beach. He had his unopened pack of Winston's. He knew the sun was rising.

The old man's foot kicked a beer bottle on the beach. He bent over slowly to pick it up and then walked over to where he remembered there was a trash bin. He tossed the bottle away and noticed a young man sliding his pants on. He shook his head slightly and turned down the beach.

The sun was peaking over the horizon now. It looked the same as always. The old man reached into his jacket pocket and found his glasses. He breathed on them and wiped them off with his shirt. He looked back towards the young man sitting in the sand and could see him. The young man was still sitting there looking out to the sunrise.

The old man felt around in the jacket and pulled out a .357 magnum that was zipped inside the jacket. He flipped the barrel of the gun to see it was loaded and pointed it towards the sun. He fired a shot. The old man grinned. He turned to see the young man staring at him now. He fired off the rounds in the pistol. He threw the pistol out into the ocean. Without looking back at the young man, he turned to keep walking down the beach.

"Gambler's plunge," he said.

The old man had a smile on his face. He closed his eyes. He didn't give a damn. He reached into his pocket and opened the pack of Winston's. He held the pack up to his nose and breathed in the tobacco. He loved the smell.