Grayson Islands

-And they say that ever since, he has been waiting on the pier for his promised bride. And even now, after hundreds of years, on a moonlit night, you can sometimes see the outline of his gaunt figure... - the old storyteller paused meaningfully and looked at the little listeners.
-That's all nonsense, grandpa! - the eldest of them finally dared to break the silence. -Everyone knows that's not true!
-Yes, you're just scaring us! - the others gradually joined in.
-Well, as they say, a tale is a lie, but it contains a hint of truth. - the old man smiled slightly through his thick gray beard.
-Can we go play in the yard now, grandpa?
-Go ahead, but be back here by lunchtime, grandma has made delicious pancakes!
-Hooray, thank you!
When the joyful children left the veranda, the old man leaned back in his rocking chair and looked up.
-It's cloudy today. You can't even see the sky behind those gloomy clouds. - Having finished muttering, the old man took out his pipe, filled the bowl with tobacco, and lit it, lost in thought about something of his own, something too distant and never attainable.