Today was Tess’s birthday. It was, also, the day she’d chosen to die. 

Island life had been good, but now she was alone. The latest hurricane had ended life as everyone had known it. They’d returned to the mainland. The stray dog with her litter of pups was rescued.  Tess’s tiny home lay scattered across the sand. She had nothing.

Tess climbed the jagged rocks, stopping to admire God’s creative hand. A dove flew overhead before settling on a rock. Her thoughts were filled with the sea’s majestic beauty; a perfect burial ground. 

Near the top of the rocky cliff, she halted her climb, listening.

Was it a cry? Impossible!

She waited. She heard a faint whimper from inside the vine-covered cave.

Pausing, she gazed at the cliff and the violent surf pounding against the boulders. She’d had a plan, but now, it must wait. 

She peered into the cave. “Hello.”

She called again, “Hello, can I help?” 

The cry was louder. Guarded, she moved inside the entrance,  pressing against the damp walls. Cloaked in darkness, she crept forward into a large chamber. 

 Remnants of smoldering ashes remained. A filthy cloth covered the wailing child. His tiny fingers clung to his mother’s lifeless body. Her head lay against the dead man’s shoulder. The family of three was now one.

Tears streamed down Tess’s face. Protectively, she drew the child to her chest, gently rocking him. She whispered, “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” 

She smiled. It was a good birthday after all.