"An Ocean of Memories" by Lindsay Verde

Using the momentum of the waves around her, Ronin rolled to her back, enjoying the feel of the water swelling up to embrace her; like a mother welcoming home her child.

And yet, Ronin felt lost and lonely. For a reason she couldn"t identify, her heart felt empty, the jewels sparkling in her hair - lackluster.

The warmth of the sun she loved didn"t penetrate the skin of her sorrow; reflecting, it shone on everything around her, illuminating their beauty but none of her own.

Turning her thoughts from feelings of rejection, Ronin stared at the shore where a cliff rose gallantly above the majestic waters. A small white cottage perched on the edge of the precipice, bravely challenging the waters below to do their worst on the cliff.

Ronin felt drawn to the quaint little cottage for reasons she couldn"t explain. Her liquid brown eyes shimmered with memories that refused to be trapped, slipping through her grasp like the fish that darted about beneath her.

As the sun slowly sank beyond the cliffs, setting their jagged edges ablaze, Ronin gave one last longing glance at the house, the scene burned upon her memory as she disappeared beneath the foam with a flick of her flipper.

A man sat, his sandy brown hair waving in the breeze off the ocean. His arms rested gently on the chair in which he reclined, cradling his infant son. As he stared out over the glittering expanse of water, his features tightened in sorrow.

Placing a delicate kiss on the feather soft head beneath his chin, he gave a pained smile. As he stared into his son"s ocean-blue eyes, he softly whispered, "Not even you could keep her here."