Tirra walked across the empty plane of the deserted beach. The tide was out and the sand stretched smooth and flat into the distance. Thin cloud filled the sky, softening the light into a pearly haze. Tirra drifted along, her bare feet leaving a track behind her across the damp sand. The light wind blew her skirt around her and she wrapped a thin cotton sarong over her head and shoulders to stop her hair flicking in her eyes.

After a while, she stopped in the middle of nowhere and turned slowly to look all around her. The sand seemed to stretch endlessly in all directions. The pale sky touched the equally pale sea at a nearly invisible horizon. The sand was yet another shade of pale. There was no one about except for some tiny figures in the far distance. Only the steady breeze and the ever-repeated crash of waves on the shore filled the vast space, making her feel small.

Tirra held the cloth of the sarong around her and continued along the edge of the sea letting the occasional wave reach her feet. Seagulls wheeled and dived or ran in jerky steps across the sand. Tirra smiled at them then turned to the left and walked onto the soft, dry, white sand. Her feet sank a little at every step, changing her gait. As she crossed the wide beach, she left the waves behind and the sand rose in low dunes.

Behind the first dune, Tirra spread her sarong and lay sheltered from the wind. She turned onto her stomach and lay with her cheek on the fine cotton, her arms over her head in the quiet protection of the dunes. She softened and relaxed and dozed off, half aware of her surroundings, a small smile flickered across her face.

When she opened her eyes and turned over to the sky, she saw him straight away, sitting a few metres from her. He sat relaxed but alert. She was struck by a certain animal quality in him and looked at him curiously. He smiled at her from a mouth that tipped up at the ends. Caught by his smile, she returned a half-smile and noticed that his fair hair was the same tone as the sand in the muted light. His fair skin and hair … suddenly she thought that he must have sprung from the dune itself.

She stood up and swept away a sudden pang of uncertainty. Without turning her back to him, she picked up a corner of her sarong and shook the sand off it. In one smooth movement, she swirled it around and let it settle on her head. She threw the end over her shoulder, gave the man a look and turned towards the sea.

In a few steps he was walking easily at her side. A little disconcerted, she kept walking across the soft sand.

"Tirra," he said softly.

She stopped sharply and looked at him. "What?" she asked abruptly.

"Tirra," he said more softly, his head a little to one side.

"Yes?" she asked more quietly as she studied his face.

"You know me," he murmured as he move a little closer.

"Yes?" she breathed, entranced by the soft look in his blue eyes.

His mouth at her ear, he breathed, "You are Tirra."

"I am," she said solemnly, "I am Tirra."

He caught the words from her lips as she spoke and held her with a kiss.

"Aaaah, Michael." The words mingled with the kiss and were consumed.