He stood at the rocky shore and set his lantern down, his wrinkled hand shaking. He called for her, just as he had every night for years. Ever since the last time he saw her.
I will return for you, she’d said.
His only answer was the waves washing the rocks in a steady, gentle murmur. He waited, hoped, anyways. His only companion in the inky darkness was the warm even glow of the lantern.
As the fog rolled in to dance around him and the first hints of sunrise pushed back the cloak of night he heard a splash out of rhythm with the water. He strained to see what it was. He was about to give up when he saw her.
She rose from the green blue depths toward him, holding out her hand. Trembling, he took it and followed her.
All that remained was the golden twinkle of a lantern nestled among the rocks on the fogbound shore.