Henry watched the young couple aimlessly strolling hand-in-hand down the promenade, blissfully unaware of the rest of the world; the crashing waves, the families with screaming children, the seagulls squabbling over dropped ice-cream cones and half-eaten fish suppers.
Every now and then the breeze would catch the girl’s skirt, and whip it up at the edge, revealing a thin line of white lace beneath. Henry felt himself stiffen at each of these revelations, a nervous warmth rising through his body, a strangely satisfying arousal.
It had been 3 years since Louise had left him for Sarah, taking with her the last vestiges of his masculinity, strength and self-confidence. Now, after all this time, he felt his emotions returning, peace and joy, once forgotten, now returned. Life, once again, had meaning and purpose.
Later, as he stood under the pier in the moonlight, he felt that same peace once more. Heading back to the hotel he turned to see the tide wash over their bloodied corpses, pooling in his footprints.