By Kevin Crowe
He parked his car at the road’s end, left the key in the ignition and took the route they had walked on many occasions. As he struggled across the rising wet moorland with its hidden pools and sticky bogs, with a north-easterly wind behind him, pushing him forward, he recalled how much they had enjoyed the rugged scenery and often inhospitable conditions, particularly as once they passed the magnificent cliffs that rose perpendicularly from the sea, the land gently fell until it reached an expanse of white sand where they could shelter from the weather in one of the caves that had at one time been used by smugglers.
When he reached the cliffs, he opened the casket he’d been carrying and let his lover’s ashes float in the wind and fall to the rocks below. “Soon we will be together again,” he yelled.
As he prepared to jump, he recalled his lover’s last words to him, telling him to make the most of his life. He finally realised his lover would not want him to die like this, so changing his mind, he took a step back.
At that moment, a fierce north-easterly blew him over the edge.