Gradually she made her way to the edge of the shore, looked out to sea and watched the waves as they soared and fell and smashed together in front of her. It was peaceful, despite the noise. She breathed in, grabbing as much salty air as she could each time, then let it go in a long, contented stream.

When she turned, she noticed she was no longer alone. A man had appeared, walking his dog, a black Labrador, beach. She waved, but the man ignored her. Her mood fell slightly. Rude, she thought, and there was never any need for rudeness.

Wandering away from the sea, she stumbled over rickety pebbles back towards the old stone steps that led back up to the cliff top where her car was parked. Huffing painfully by the time she reached the top, she looked around. No car. No one. Then the memory rushed back. Yes, she had driven here, yes, once, years, decades ago. And she had jumped.

In horror, she ran down the steps again, terror, disbelief at what she had done pushing her on. Gradually she made her way to the edge of the shore, looked out to sea and watched the waves as they soared and fell and smashed together in front of her. It was peaceful, despite the noise. She breathed in, grabbing as much salty air as she could each time, then let it go in a long, contented stream.

Doomed to repeat, doomed forever.