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woman hadn’t returned. If he could dig for one more night, he might have a chance. When the sky turned black and the stars emerged, he dragged his emaciated body towards the fence once more.

    Mara dropped her bag on the hotel bed. She was back in her favorite room, on her favorite island, at her favorite beach. It was likely the last time she’d be strong enough to swim in the ocean. Her transfusions were barely lasting four days now before the exhaustion took her. She’d spent October traveling. Aunt Lillian had accompanied her and the two women crossed dozens of things off of Mara’s bucket list. She’d jumped out of a perfectly good plane, gone whitewater rafting, learned to paddleboard, saw a show in London, went to the Vatican, and spent two glorious weeks on the beach in Hawaii. But then she’d come home to prepare to die. Aunt Lillian moved to Seattle to be close to her and came over every few nights to cook her dinner. 
    Mara knew her days were limited. She’d make Christmas, but beyond that, there were no guarantees. She’d filed for disability from work. She spent her waking hours reading, swimming, and hanging out with Lillian, Jen, Adam, Lisa, and their kids. She watched movies, ate whatever she wanted, and cried whenever she felt like it. She denied herself nothing. She’d inherited enough money from her father to keep her comfortable for the last few months of her life. Her body was eating itself from the inside out, so the excess of French fries and ice cream she consumed did nothing to harm her lithe figure. Oddly, she could still swim whenever she could muster enough strength to drive the few miles to the pool. As soon as she got into the water, her body felt almost normal again.
    Aunt Lillian urged her to visit a healer friend of hers who specialized in the occult, but Mara didn’t buy into that crap.
    “You’re a water soul, Mara,” Lillian had said. “Eleanor is sure of it. That’s why swimming helps you. I know there’s something Eleanor could do for you.”
    Mara refused. Lillian even went so far as to bring her a book on water qi, urging her to read it and alter her diet to nourish the parts of her that were weak, but ten days of watermelon, spinach, kale, and coconut water did nothing for her strength or her red blood cell counts, and Mara gave up.
    Now she was back on Orcas Island for one last swim. Well, perhaps two swims. She had enough time to swim before dinner, fall asleep with a book, and then swim for an hour or two tomorrow morning. After that, she’d bid goodbye to this place and close the penultimate chapter of her life. The weather had turned cold and dismal the past few weeks, matching Mara’s mood. Thank the Goddess for thick wetsuits and insulated swim caps. The beach was deserted as no one wanted to swim much after October in Puget Sound, but this was Mara’s favorite time of year.
    Her tears mixed with the salt water as she stepped into the sea. She shivered when the water poured into the wetsuit, but within a few minutes, her temperature equalized. Murky waves surrounded her as she dove. The sea played a haunting melody that welcomed her home, comforted her. Stroke after stroke she sped away from the shore. When she was well beyond Indian Island, she turned. Treading water, she gazed back at the land. The hotel bobbed, and dark clouds gathered behind the cliffs. Rain would arrive soon, then wind. As long as it wasn’t one of those freak lightning storms, she didn’t care.
    Maybe she should swim out into the depths of the Sound. Eventually she’d tire. She’d slip under the water and not come back up. She could do it. But images of her friends popped into her head. They’d never forgive her. Not that it mattered. She’d be dead. No. She couldn’t do that. She needed them with her at the end. She’d made them promise. No hospitals. Her home. Her own bed, her aunt and her friends around her. That’s how she’d die. So she swam back to shore. Out and back,