A rogue sliver of moonlight pierces the open air like a knife tossed from the sky. I twist the steering wheel to the right, force a turn around the streetlight and dart into the open road. Cara slithers her tongue against red cherry lips and smiles. The subtle touches of her fingertips on the edge of my arm are little rockets of warmth. Her hand makes its way over mine and for nearly a minute not a single breath escapes my lungs. We jet past the theatre, past the 24-hour diner and onto the road that’ll soon take us home. Cara sits back in her seat and sighs, supple splinters of cool night air circling into our lungs with gentle abandon.

A quick flash of two rippled halos dances in front of the car and forces my mind to spur into a momentary spiral. A long jet of black static and piercing screeches bursts the sincere calm of the car and for a single second all I can see is a hazy shard of red and speckled fragments of glitter and dust.

Soon enough all I can hear are my own demons waltzing to the tune of disparate breaths. The very last image to burn itself against the film reel behind my mind is Cara’s plastic angel face and the final flickers of her powder blue eyes.

* * *

A long sip of whiskey and cola, the bitter fugue of rust and ice. Three months since the accident and I’ve forgotten what the sun looks like. I sit on the edge of the beach wall and fling the bottle into the ocean. It lands with a quiet splash, two fleeting ovals of white water collapsing into a ring of darkness. I tilt my head back and say her name only once, remember the eager twinkle of her voice and the way it could send shivers through my blood with only a single word.

I watch the night waves crash onto the rocks below the walkway. Cara and I moved here from Manhattan. She was accepted into Boston University’s Master’s program for anthropology and I came along for the ride. I’d follow her into the depths of hell if she wanted, just to see her smile once. Just to hear three words in a wave of pheromones and autumn wind. I peer out beyond the water to the lighthouse on the other side of the beach, jagged concrete staircase between myself and the ocean. I kneel and finger the edge of the lone black rock shooting from below the walkway.

Our first morning in Massachusetts was spent alongside this beach at this exact spot. Cara wore pink sunglasses and never let go of my hand. She said she wanted to watch the sun set from this position and I nodded. For six months I forgot about this spot, forgot until the only soul conjoined with mine slipped away, like water dripping from the palm of my hand. Six month ago is forever, a time in a different dimension.

I close my eyes and try to taste the sky. The stars radiate with a ginger tinge, their echoing drone a momentary distraction from the pool of pain in my chest. Soon enough the beach is behind me, lost in a trail of willowing sand and dirt.

* * *

I slam the apartment door closed and drop my keys on the coffee table in the middle of the living room. Before I can turn to the bedroom, a single fragment of light pierces the corner of my eye. I walk slowly to the coffee table, afraid of what’s staring at me in its glass center amongst old magazines and an ashtray. Cara’s necklace dangles from the edge, its shiny silver speckles bursting with robust force. The last time I saw this it was draped around her neck, its opal pendant swooped between freckled cleavage and pastel skin. Rogue rush of blood finds its way to my brain, my face flush with desire. I clutch the necklace to my chest and I swear I can hear her voice beckon me from the bedroom.

Eager steps along the carpet until I reach the bedroom doorway. The sheets to our bed are pulled over on the side I haven’t touched in months. I lay the necklace on her pillow and finally hear the whisper. The words are foggy and wispy, as if they could dissipate into the air before I could breathe them in. I turn around and the bedroom door slams shut. My heart stops beating and for a moment this entire life is but a cruel dream. I close my eyes and remember I’m breathing, I’m awake. The door creeps open and reveals nothing but a cool breeze. I sit on the edge of the bed, let the necklace fall to the floor. My back hits the mattress and in a matter of seconds I’m lost in a fit of slumber.

* * *

Amber flush of light between my eyes, a fresh morning gust from the open window. A yawn and I sit up, notice that the necklace is still lying in the center of Cara’s pillow. I remember the whispers, the way it felt like she was here with me. I shrug off the remaining bits of sleep in my face and head into the kitchen. I start the coffee machine and lean against the counter, replaying last night in the back of my mind. I don’t recall placing the necklace on the coffee table but on a long enough timeline I’m bound to have my soul escape from the flesh and act as if it were a different person.

Quick bustle of noise against the front door and it shocks me. The squeal continues until I open the door and look out into the neighborhood. Nothing, nobody. A deep breath and I wonder if my brain will continue to do this to me until I’m gone and buried deep below the earth. I close the front door and a swooping violet shadow flashes beyond the kitchen and into the hallway. My steps aren’t quick enough to catch it and in just a few seconds I’m left with nothing but sunlight and silence. I catch my breath and sit down at the kitchen table, shake my head only once. I pinch the edge of my forearm and convince myself I’m truly awake.

I lean forward and see the display of flowers in the center of the kitchen table. A single black orchid sits in a bed of orange chrysanthemums, a supernova of invisible sweet smoke enveloping the apartment air like a virus. I stand up and the chair falls behind me. I look around, try to pinpoint the figure that danced in my kitchen only minutes ago.

For a second, I hear her voice. It falls from the ceiling like bereft angel wings gliding against a summer sky. Hair stands on edge and the words become clear.

For you, my dear.

* * *

Hours later and my heart finally catches up to my thoughts. I sit on the edge of the couch and stare out the living room window. For six months my body has been nothing but an empty vessel. And now it feels as if she’s reaching out to me, absolving the flutters of pain behind my ribcage and tugging at the muscle fibers beneath the surface of my heart. I lost her in a sea of sparks and crushing metal, love crashing into a wall of black noise and endless nights. I replay the words. For you, my dear. My dear Cara, for whom I’d tear off my skin. I look beyond the grass of the front yard and gaze at the golden twinkle of the sun’s departure. Only a matter of minutes before it betrays the day and disappears into the night.

I rush into the bedroom and grasp her necklace, gently drop it into a velvet bag with the flowers from the kitchen table. I grab my car keys and slam the door behind me. The beach is only a short ride away.

* * *

The sun’s jagged edges pierce the tender slosh of ocean waves. I find a spot close to the end of the concrete walkway and grab the bag on the passenger side seat. My first steps are slow and gentle, as if I was afraid to wake up the moon. I let the bag hang by my side with the oncoming evening breeze.

I reach the edge of the walkway and pause at the very first stair. I can see the first of millions of stars push their way through the steel-colored clouds like young weeds in a cemetery. Slow race down the stairs and when I reach the bottom I sit down, backside shivering from a tinge of water and sand. A blanket of scarlet sky drapes itself against the oncoming scuttle moonlight and darkness. I stand up and remove my shoes and socks, feel the wet sand beneath my toes.

I walk forward until my flesh meets the water, kneel into the mix of mud and seaweed. I remove the necklace and flowers, place them at the edge of the water. The lone black orchid floats and spins like a lost ship. The sun fades from view, replaced by an infinite array of stars. A discarnate coverlet of obsidian flickers before the moon’s murky glow embraces the ocean. The night bleeds dark into harrowing static and I close my eyes. Placid touch against my skin, the soft clinch of cool air and warm blood. Cara’s voice burrows into the whirr of the ocean’s rumble and for a moment she’s with me. I reach up and feel the supple flow of her hair, the rupturing murmur of a lost voice bound with broken light.