STRANGLE HOLD DRABBLE
by
Owlcroft
The footsteps in the grass diminished. The wind whispered in the pines and the waves continued to slowly roll then subside. The man on the headland stood for a while longer then, his shoulders slumped, he turned and made his way to the house. He turned at the door and looked out over the ocean once more, sighed and went inside, stopping at the door to the den.
"You hungry?" he asked quietly. "I'm gonna fix some soup."
"Sure," was the equally subdued reply. "I'll do us a coupla sandwiches."
Together they made their way to the kitchen and peace.