When he wakes, the ocean parts, and the waves roll back and forth as if in welcome, guiding him along the exposed path and through the ocean. The crabs stare at him from their hiding places, tucked safely away beneath rocks and coral. It all seems familiar, and yet not so.
His right leg sinks into the sand with each step, but Davy continues forward, and so the whispers begin.
The voices go quiet when he nears the water's edge, and the moment he blinks and realises what's before him is real, the ocean returns to its normal state.
On the beach is a woman. A goddess. The one his heart will always belong to. Her dark dreads fall past her shoulders, loose and unbound as she is; lips plump and delicate that he could spend an eternity kissing; and that body — for so many years he has dreamt of it, felt its ghost next to him when he fell asleep. The body he trapped her in, caressed, worshipped: to suddenly be no longer permitted to touch her was like taking opiates away from an addict.
His goddess is on land, where he cannot step foot, and as Davy pauses in the shallows, she gestures at him. Come hither.
Before he knows it, his fingers are on her waist and his claw opens wide to encompass her left hip. He's lifting her up towards the sky, spinning them around. His goddess has returned to him and all Jones can do is smile and thank the sea. "You're here."
"I am."