The grey sea churned as the wind buffeted the cliffs. Great waves hulking like stampeding elephants in the distance.

The salty spray mottled his face as he sat, contemplative despite the blast of the elements all around him.

His duffle coat clapped furiously, and the noise kept him grounded in the present. In this place it had been all too easy to get lost in the past.

He’d long since given up on his hood, allowing instead the gale free reign to whip his hair however it saw fit. He knew that later on his ears would protest at the beating they were being exposed to, but for now he was content to feel alive, to remember.

He looked out to the horizon and wondered, for what felt like the millionth time, what she had thought when she stood here on that stormy night 7 years ago.

If only she had let him in.

His eyes were wet. It wasn’t the wind. With a sigh that was quickly engulfed by the gust, he heaved to his feet, and steadied himself against the wooden bench.

He traced his hand across the plaque.

‘In memory of Jessica, beloved daughter, this was her favourite place to think’

He kissed his fingers and touched the metal plate tenderly.

‘See you tomorrow’

Then he was gone, an old man making his way gingerly down the winding path to the beachside car park, his daily pilgrimage complete.