Back to the Sea

A man walks out of the sea, he's dressed in his Sunday's best; black suit, black tie, black shoes. Those passing by and the ones sunbathing notice he's limping and seaweed dangles from his neck and shoulders. A man chasing a Frisbee steals a glance at the limping man's face, half of it is covered in wrinkled scars. The limping man makes his way off the sand.
He's still dripping as he walks along the sidewalks of the city, beside him the trees still sway. He walks past a jogger, she smells something rancid coming from his decaying flesh. She slows to a walk and catches her breath. A car whizzes by, it sweeps him into a memory.
He's driving a tiny car, his wife is in the seat beside him. They utter words of affection to each other and to the child they're expecting. He leans in to give her a kiss and his world flips. Thrice they spin along the hot pavement before skidding to a stop on their heads. The tiny car's engine is still screaming above his head. He attempts at collecting himself, his eyes dart around the wrecked car.
He frees himself from the restraints and looks to his wife, her head dangles unnaturally. He frantically attempts to examine her vitals. She groans, a confirmation of her health.
He tries to put her at ease by breaking out his side window and limping to her. He shatters her window and desperately struggles to free her. In that instant the screaming engine explodes sending him flying into the ocean only yards away.
As he sinks to the bottom her screams fuel the fire as it engulfs the car. Her flaming hands reach out for her drowning husband.
He's brought back to the present, walking along the seaside sidewalk. He reaches his in-laws' house and enters. No one is home to greet him. He walks to the fire place and takes his wife's urn and limps out. He's not sure if what's inside is his wife and unborn child or just ashes collected from the wreckage, but he takes it and his heart back to the sea.

-Sir Jestro