Monk

The old man spent his mornings on the mountaintop swinging his fists at the air and talking to God.

He did that because that's what warrior monks do, he thought.

When he was done, he would sit and contemplate.

When the sun set, he'd watch it and quietly weep at its majesty.

At night, he would fix himself a simple supper.

And go to sleep, reading his favorite book.

All to repeat the day the next.