Tears stream down his face as he carries her down the beach. He forced himself to stifle a sob as he sets her down gently on the ground, her fuchsia hair falling over her closed eyes. He brushes it from her eyes but covers her temple gently.

He puts the shovel hard into the wet sand. Again. Again. He can’t prevent the guttural sob that forces it’s way out of him. The hole gets bigger. Bigger. He glared at the ground as though it’s angered him. It’s finally big enough to accommodate her. He lowers her kindly into the grave. The sand goes over her slender body. The grave fills slowly as he sobs more. He forces the shovel into his foot. He needs to feel something. Something other that depression.

He smooths the ground over. A wave covers her grave. He’ll never see her again. He bends over her grave site and feigns composure.

“That’s what you get when you impersonate my daughter you sadist.” He stares up. “Don’t worry Maggie, I’m coming to find you.”