She has said it so many times that it's nearly a given now.

Once. Crumpled bills scrunched up in a grimy fist.

He changes her mind for her – looks forward and never back. A windmill and the sweet sting of tangerines on the tongue.

It's been so long; he has faith in himself and in her.

Twice, it's different.

Gold glints off the smooth curve of the shell.

Her voice is muted, echoing in the silence of stones.

He doesn't hear those words and it's hell to pay.

Again and again, and once again, the blue sea is stretching out towards adventures and dreams.

Gold glimmers as her fingers brushes across its surface - it slips through his fingers, out of his hands, tips out into the ocean.

Her words are lost but now he hears them in her.