They slipped into one of the dense rows where the bushels slumped to the ground, raking up the earth when the wind caught hold of their tendrils. Diego wanted to stop, for the mouth of the labyrinth to snap shut, bringing Liliana to a halt against his chest so he could fit his hands around her waist, letting them fall, slowly, to the soft skin just below her hips. He wanted to feel her mouth, to taste every sloping curve and smooth indention, every inch of him melting until he was weightless enough to inhale, for her to consume completely. That’s what he wanted more than anything but as she led him down the row, to where the hard terrain gave way to the soft flesh of the beach he didn’t stop her. Instead, as she made that first leap into the tide, he let go of her hand, he let go of her and watched as the ocean stripped her clean.