Waves crash. Smell of the sea. Licking his lips, he asks, “Why can’t I touch you?”

“Because I don’t want to be touched by you.”

The sea breeze brushes his face. “But why? What have I done besides love you?”

“What have you done?” She laughs. “Love? What haven’t you done, is a better question. You did not love.”

“I’m confused by your response,” Jack tells her.

“You weren’t confused when you chose your sacrifice.”

“My sacrifice?”

“Your work. You chose to work, to earn more and more money over being with your family. That was your sacrifice. You sacrificed us.”

“I provided so my family could live in comfort, allowing you and the kids to live without struggle.”

“A life devoid of struggle—that’s what you call it? You abandoned your daughter until she took her own life. Turned your back on your son until he rebelled and chose his own path. Left me to deal with the pain of cancer that consumed and dissolved my entire being while you worked. You call that love?”

Tears begin to form in Jack’s eyes. His body begins to tremble. “I worked for you and the kids. I was there with you in the hospital as much as I could be. I got you the best doctors, the best care possible.”

“The best that money could buy. Of course you did. Like I said, you chose your sacrifice. Now I’m gone. Live with it.”

Bending down, Jack’s lower back hurts; his breath quickens. Reaching, he grips Sarah’s shoulder. She jerks away from the touch of his fingers, and he grabs at her once more, pulls her toward him. Her shoulder detaches from her body. “Way to go, Jack, tearing my life apart once again. Causing more pain that money can’t put back together.”

“No!” Jack screams. “I’m sorry. No!” Holding the arm, he watches it turn to sand that sifts through his fingers, slides through his grip. He reaches for Sarah once more. Her face turns to him, devoid of flesh. Of eyes or lips. Only sinus bones and a skull with tufts of hair blowing in the warm wind.

Sarah tells him, “You never did listen to me, Jack. Just sowed more pain. Uprooting and tearing everything apart.”

Frightened, he falls backward. His hands spread over the beach to catch his descent. He is weak. And Sarah slithers and crawls toward him. Climbs on top of him. His hands touch her body, feel the bony structure of her dead soul as it slowly dissipates. Running through his fingers, she turns to sand just as her arm did. The wind catches it and blows it away.