The pull of the tide

Flowing very softly, like the trickling of melting butter, the tide came in around their feet.
They were sleeping, naked on the warm secluded sands, Stefan and Magda - each dreaming of the other.
In Stefan’s dream, Magda was a ghost. She came to him as he turned out the last light in his house. She was brilliant white, with mouth aflame. She reached out to him and he stood his ground for her touch. She kissed him and the flames spread across his body in waves.
In Magda’s dream, Stefan was a cruel master to her. She worked hard for his care, but whenever she displayed the weakness one has when they can’t help but reveal their love, he would attack her with words so barbed, she felt each syllable snagging on her heart.
Magda, mercifully, woke first. Her hands shook and her eyes were grey. She looked at the beautiful body of Stefan, almost glowing like an angel in the midday sun, but he was tainted now. Magda wanted so much to wake and hold him, for this all to go away, but the power of the dream still gripped her. So she just sat up, pulled her legs into her chest and sobbed into her knees.
Though they were inches from each other, their minds reeled, whole universes apart. Stefan’s dream was bringing him such joy, his body had no wish to escape the sensation. The spirit of Magda flowed through his entire being and his veins pumped with vitality.
And then, above the slowly melting tide came the first of the white water, the first gush that signals the world has turned and the tranquillity of the beach must be reclaimed.
As it splashed this fresher, colder water across Magda’s calves, the nagging grip of her dream was broken. She looked at the frothing waters and opened her legs, to allow the next wave to surge through her.
The wave broke, fizzing across their bodies, and Magda leaned her head back into the surf, her hair dabbling in the foam. This last sea wash woke Stefan with a splutter and a cry.
He looked at his lover in confusion, but she smiled sweetly at him in return and stroked his wet face. Then she pulled herself on top of him and kissed him as the surge crashed into her back.
They made love there, in the tidal waters, fighting a valiant last stand against the inevitable. They strained with every inch of their beings for these seconds on their sand and their beach, before the tide came.

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There's more love, longing and sand in this tale: On the beaches, far away.