He walked the beach every day, alone, contemplating his plight, and wondered just what it was he had been born to do. There were no people in his life left to care for. No one left to love. Marriage had failed him … failed both he, and the one he’d loved with all his heart. Now, the emptiness consumed his very soul, and gnawed away at his will to live. He scuffed the sand and bent to scrape a form from just beneath it’s surface. A tiny shell emerged, the soft amethyst color the same shade as his wife’s secret place, and a new wave of sadness overtook him. What had happened? Why had she gone away? He’d tried so hard to be a good husband. A good partner in all aspects of their lives together.
A seagull squawked right over his head, jerking him from his reverie. There was no use crying over spilt milk. Done is done. There was no going back now. Loneliness as black as the deepest part of the ocean engulfed him and he found himself standing in the welcoming waves. Something beckoned him. Something told him it was time to go … time to let another have his space.
A small dog yipped a warning to it’s mistress and she shaded her eyes against the glare of the waves, but there was nothing there. Just a floating jacket someone had lost. She tugged firmly on the Yorkie’s leash and they turned and walked away.