On weekends, he would decompress by walking for miles and miles across the beaches and sand flat by the river. His dog, Marlo, would accompany him on most days, and together they would explore their new home. He had been more cautious when he had first arrived. This part of the river so close to the sea had fewer people try to cross, but every day there were a daring few. Desperate people are dangerous, he knew. But soon the excitement of his new life in his new house wore off, and the temptations of the landscape were too much. After the tenth sunrise, he began to walk the road that continued alongside the river out across the marshes to the sea every morning. Marlo would run off ahead up the beach, galloping across the sand as it shone like a pane of mirrored glass reflecting the sun, but never out of sight, and always within earshot. He came back every time. Every time that is, until one morning when he disappeared around the back of a dune and did not re-emerge.