There was a crescent moon out. Thick cumulous clouds obscured it as they moved ominously in the sky. Don could barely make out the ocean but sparkling bits of silvery light reflecting off the water shined intermittently, showing off the sea and its movements.
But more than see it, he could hear it--the slow low roar of water as the small waves hit the shore. Even as it was, it called. Since he’d been a young Marine and visited decades ago, it had called. That’s why he’d come back, hoping that he could capture those lost halcyon days. But now? What havoc had been wrecked? Why couldn’t he leave well enough alone? All that he’d been praying for had come about, had practically slapped him in the face and what had he done? Ignored it, put it aside, letting some basic urges steer him away. Let sleeping dogs lie. Let the bitch do her thing, just leave her alone. Go to Carrie, He told himself as he stared at the windows of Estelle’s beach house.
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