Father and Son (426 Words)

As we stand hand in hand on the beautiful golden sand my son looks up to me and says, "Where does the sea end Dad?" 

I smile down at his face full of the innocent wonderment of youth, ruffle his hair and sit down on the sand. Patting the floor next to me I invite him to join me.

"It was once thought that this world was flat, and the oceans poured off the edges. Sailors used to claim to have been to the ends of the earth and back. Lost ships were thought to have fallen into the void."

"Wasn't granddad a sailor?" 

"Aye that he was son and he had stories of mermaids and unspeakable monsters but even he said the world wasn't flat."  

"Then where does it go?"  Urged my impatient child.

This desperate need for immediate answers drives my wife insane. I remember it well, the unquenchable thirst of knowledge. How each answer only ever seemed to raise even more questions. I wonder when I stopped asking questions? How could I ever think that I knew enough?

An anxious drawn out, " Daaaad" breaks my train of thought.

"Sorry son," I say with a chuckle. "As I was saying your granddad sailed all across this world, saw everything there was to see. He always said to me if you keep going you'll always end up where you're meant to be."

"But that doesn't make any sense."

"Few things in this world do Son."

I see this frustrates him far more than I thought it would so I try a different approach.

"Okay, look out to the horizon. If we were to sail out west and keep going and keep going, eventually we would end up going east. And after that we would end up back here."

His brow furrows as he tries to process this, " So the Earth is round?" 

Pride swells in me but before I can congratulate him the next question is already on his lips.

"Then why don't we fall off?"

Our shadows are already hanging behind us as the sun slowly sinks into the ocean in front of us. I stand up, dust the sand off my behind and offer him my hand.

"Come on sport, we better head back before your mum sends out the search party. I'll tell you about a great, great man on the way . . "

With a heavy sigh he takes my hand and heaves himself up. 

He takes my hand and we walk back towards the cottage.

"His name was Isaac Newton, " I begin. 

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