This is an extract from Eleven Minutes by Paulo Coelho.
Today, while we
were walking around the lake, along that strange road to Santiago, the man who was with me – a
painter, with a life entirely different from mine – threw a pebble into the
water. Small circles appeared where the pebble fell, which grew and grew until
they touched a duck that happened to be passing and which had nothing to do
with the pebble. Instead of being afraid of that unexpected wave, he decided to
play with it.