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The third weekend in August, Mrs. Jennifer Black started a brisk walk down Sellwin Beach. She loved to get up a good pace in the clean air, taking in the curved vista and the rush of the high cool waves. She and her husband Edmund came out on weekends when the winds were high and the air a bit cool, because it meant fewer people would be at Sellwin. If the beach was crowded at the main entrance, they would simply drive as far down as they safely could in their older car, a sturdy Volvo.

Edmund was a professor at Winstanley, and most of his colleagues drove Volvos, it seemed to Jennifer. Their marriage had started out on the wild side. For several years it was a different job and city every summer, but since the job at Winstanley in the Northeast, they had known seven years of security, career advancement and routine. Jennifer did some part-time work as an English instructor, and spent much of the rest of her time working for charities in the downtown area, including the food bank and the homeless mission.

Even their Saturdays at Sellwin Beach had fallen into a pleasant routine. Jennifer loved her two-hour long rambles, and Edmund indulged his passion for big thick novels. Sometimes, when she returned, and if there was no one else on the beach, they would find a spot between two dunes, or they would drop their bottoms in chest-high water, and take what felt like more than a pleasure. It was a special pleasure, a sinful pleasure, because it was outdoors, and there was the chance of being seen. Jennifer smiled - she knew she would need to take care of ...

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