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The bright glowing sphere dimmed, as it slipped vertically down the horizon. Its surreptitious decent seemed ominous, less distracted. Inside its mind, I could see the presence of eminent despair. As if its future were riddled with uncertainty. The present now fading away to a past that never was.

Slowly the cool blue water enveloped the warm sun as it finally cascaded over the Pacific, rising in Calcutta, leaving California, its past, behind. The waves crashed and as the blue water faded it was transformed into an onyx sea. As the waves swelled, the moon rose, its brightness lit by the diminished light of the sun. Light began to dance upon the waves like fairy dust.

I stood on the desolate beach, staring down at my only companion on this forbidden evening. His lips were parted slightly, as if there was a final word caught between his teeth. A word that would never be heard. His dark, chocolate eyes lacked vibrancy and their dullness nearly infuriated me. I took no pity on his wasted life.

I began to roll his cold, inanimate body closer to the shore. Its stiffness provided more resistance than I had expected. Grains of sand embedded themselves in every creavase of his body. The sand slowly began to cover his irritatingly dead eyes, and eased my feeling for them somewhat. Still, pushing his dead weight was just about as aggravating.

Finally the murderous tides rose enough that my efforts were eased. Wading out into the icy sea, I shoved his body out farther, until the cold water swallowed him completely. I watched as the black waves crashed again and again, enjoying their delicious meal.

I reached into my pocket and extracted my last gift to my new liquid friend. I threw the empty syringe, once filled with the paralytic vercuronium bromide, into the ebony sea. Walking back to the beach, I could feel the my lips curling into a slight smile.

I couldn't help being reminded of Camus' The Stranger and Meursault's own beach adventure. I knew that the blistering heat of the sun was of no consequence to me, but wondered if our fates were to be played out in the same way. This was no accident, yet remorse was not quite the feeling my savage deeds gave me. Pleasure may seem a cruel word, and a sense of accomplishment may be a better fit, but ultimately is was contentment that I felt.

As if on cue, rain flooded the December sky and I couldn't have been more elated. My task was complete and my chest was no longer heavy with burden. Maybe one day he'll find my sister in the openness of the unforgiving sea. I hoped it would show him the same mercy he never gave her.

Learn more about this author, Colene Pefley.
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