The storm raged black against the moon, hanging low like an unnatural yellowing orb in a purple sky.

She shivered on the beach. Why she found herself here again and again, she didn’t know. What sacrifice of blood or love ran through her veins, bringing her repeatedly on the shore. 

“I must be losing my mind”, she thought. 

……..

Many hundred miles… many decades ago, he lay chained to the walls.

“What was her name?” The officer barked, face so close to his he could see the deranged madness lurking in his black iris. 

He smiled wearily. 

“What difference does it make to you, her name? She is not here. And where she is, I do not know. She is lost to you as she is to me” 

“You don’t know the meaning of loss just yet.” The officer spat in his face, stretching himself upright from his squat.

“Beat him black and blue until he gives up her name. If he still doesn’t, crush his fingers one by one” he ordered to his henchmen.

He closed his eyes. Another night of pain awaited him. He drew in a long tired breath, as he heard footsteps squelch closer. The smell of mud. Blood. Sweat. Urine. And jasmine? The ones in her hair. 

He pictured her bending over to pick the fallen jasmines on the floor. Carefully tucking them in her bun.

The yank of the chains on his wrist woke him up from his reverie.

“Begin” the jailer barked.