Dorset is one of England's most dreamy places, I must say - a place down south,where the Atlantic kisses the shores of this lovely country. Standing here on top of a chalk cliff, with my mind lost in the wonders of the vast open sea in front of me as the chorus of swooshing voices oft all grasses in the open field at my back, played a song of tranquillity each time the cool sea breeze passes through. Nothing can be better than this - or so I thought.

Oddly enough, there is that lingering feeling of having been here before. Deja vu, I think that's the term. It may have been due to the fact that I have been to many places similar to this. But then again,I couldn't recall any of those places. Lately, I've been having some memory lapses. But I guess it's a side effect of the fast-paced life in London.

I may have come at the wrong time since a dense stormy cloud is looming in from afar, trying to shove away the remaining sunlight. I closed my eyes, knowing that this proceeding of nature reflected my current career status perfectly. I am going to face a storm and I'm not even sure if I'll come out alive. I heaved a deep sigh and resigned myself to the rocky floor.

"Good.I thought you were going to jump," a sweet voice came from behind me.

Needless to say I was startled. But when I turned around, my heart raced even faster than it ought to be. I mean, how can this exquisite beauty I am looking at be more than just an illusion conjured by my stressed out mind?

Long,wavy, black hair, marble eyes with an accentuating mascara that emanates a geisha-like fierceness, short pointy nose, cherry-red lips partially covered by a red-black chequered scarf, and a glowing pinkish face. The dimple on her right cheek suggested a joyful personality when she smiled.

"You're on my spot," she said again.

Apparently still stunned, I answered with silence.

"Never mind. Is it okay if I join you?"

Before I could even answer, she motioned towards the vacant spot beside me. She sat a few feet away yet her sweet, fruity-scent tickled my nostrils, tempting me to come closer.

Snapping out from being stunned, I cleared my throat. "Sorry. I-I wasn't on my mind. I, uh, I'm..."

"...lost somewhere deep in your mind?" She finished my sentence.

"Yeah.I guess you can say that." I chuckled. "Did you say this was your spot?"

"I come here often."

"Oh. I see. I'm a first-timer."

"I know."

"So, it shows, eh?"

"I did say I come here often, didn't I? I would know if someone's new to this place."

"Right."I felt silly. I normally keep my cool around girls, especially fit ones as those I normally encounter back at home.

"Sorry. This is just the way I speak. I hope I didn't sound like a stuck-up woman to you." Her sweet friendly smile showed the truth.

"Nothing to worry about, love." And, I can't help but smile too.

"Here." She handed me a cold can of espresso.

"A cold can of coffee in such a chilly weather." I took the can, and read the labels. "Now, you're looking like a weird chic to me - a really cute one, that is." I gave off a cheeky wink , hoping it would give a cool flirty man impression.

"You accepted it. That makes you an equally weird bloke." A few seconds passed by before she winked back at me with a playful smile. Oh, her dimpled smile.

"Touché. But, where's the 'a-really-cute-one-too' part?"

She giggled and then there was a long pause as we both opened our cans with a refreshing clicking sound and sipped from it.

"That storm will never come," she finally said.

"What do you mean? I can feel the wind blowing towards us."

"It will never come."

"Would you care to explain further, Ms. Weather-woman?"

"That storm has been there for ages."

"Uh, what?"

"So does this cliff... so does the field behind us... so does the sea beyond us..."

"Okay. Okay. I get it. They have been here for a long -"

"So do I... and so do you..."

"What? You're starting to lose the cute status, woman."

She stood up and wiped the dust off her tight fitting jeans. A tired sigh escaped from her lungs. She threw her can of cold espresso towards the sea. I stared in bewilderment as its contents spilled everywhere while it swirled and wobbled before plummeting to the dark Atlantic below. Then, she turned to me with a face that was suddenly completely masked with sadness of an unknown origin. Her eyes looked so tired as if she had been crying for years. She walked towards me slowly and strenuously, like every step weighed a thousand tons, before she dropped to her knees in front of me.

I was so taken aback with the unexpected turn of events that I remained frozen in my place, still clutching my can. With her small body frame, she looked like a child kneeling in front of me. She looked up to my face and her eyes were suddenly wide with wonder, tears starting to flood her barren eyes. Her trembling cherry-red lips opened ever so slightly as if battling an urge to say something she shouldn't.

"I've grown tired of this now," she whispered.

"What do you me-"

"Hush now, my love." She pressed her finger to my lips. "Just hear me out."

Finally, a tear trickled from the side of her eye. Then, she said, "It has been a real blessing for me that you are here with me today, at this very place where we first met. Your kind of love has been something that only comes out in movies and fictional romance novels. I have been very lucky to receive such love. I am even happier to see you here each month. It was like this. A stormy weather from the distance...me, giving you a cold can of espresso... you, trying to get my number with your lame-ass jokes. It was always like this."

She placed her palm on my cheek with such affection that it sent bundles of indescribable emotions through my nerves. The confusion, plus the sensations, left me even more paralysed.

She continued, "My sweet love, you have been everything to me. Those years of love we shared, the family we could've had... Oh, the family we could've had."

This time, she broke. Tears were flowing like raging waterfalls. But her stare was intensely fixed to mine. I remained dumbfounded.

"Oh, my dearest, I know it was hard for you. It was never my intention nor was it yours. It was beyond our control." She kept sobbing as she spoke.

What she was saying was mere words to me. I couldn't understand why there was so much emotions behind those words and why she was saying those to me.

She held my face with both her hands and rested her forehead to mine. "But, James, my love, please, please, please, please... let me go. Please... just set me free."

At that moment, the tranquillity and serenity in the air vanished and the sky turned dark. I could see from the corner of my eyes some flashing lights of red and blue. The chorus of swooshing sound of the grass was replaced with a louder, chaotic series of hushed voices and loud murmurs of what sounded like a small crowd. I could hear the growing loudness of sirens reaching a halt followed by the sound of car doors opening. The sudden change of atmosphere numbed my other senses that it took me a while to register what I was seeing - and what I was holding.

"Sir, please put your hands behind your back and stand up slowly." A stern, amplified voice of a man stood out from the flood of noises around me.

His shout brought me back to my senses and all those memories I have suppressed came rushing to my head like an exploding bottle of Coke. Memories of me with this woman as we cooked together in my loft apartment popped in my head. More snippets of memories appeared like old film played on white wall: us cuddling in my bed, biking along Hyde Park, eating chocolate and vanilla ice cream somewhere in Toronto, getting married in a garden, slow dancing in our apartment lounge with some slow music as I caressed her pregnant belly.

I remembered it all. But it was bittersweet. The memory of me holding on to her dress as I drown myself in tears inside what could've been our baby's room finally opened the gates of my already overflowing grief.

I looked down.

My wife. My sweet, sweet wife. Our child, or what could've been our child. My world. My everything.

Now reduced to nothing but rotting flesh and bones, covered in dirt and mud, in my hands.

And then, they were everywhere. They surrounded me like I was some kind of rabid animal. I guess I really am. But I didn't care. That shot of hallucinogen I had had given me the means to establish closure within myself.

"Oh, my sweet Yuri. I am so... so sorry," I whispered to what was left of her.

I felt something metallic and cold lodged in the back of my trousers. I grabbed it quickly and pressed it to my head, sending the police and the crowd into a frenzy of shouting. The last sounds I heard from the physical world were their screaming and the clicking of my gun.