'Sleeping Wraiths' by Christine Collinson
She trod determinedly across the rocky shore, a lantern swaying in her shaking hand. The moon shed a pale light on the sea; the tide had slipped out and only a soft wind stirred.
Against the sky, the once majestic ship lay tipped and torn. Its tattered sails glowed like sleeping wraiths.
All of the surviving crew had been rescued; she knew that. Yet she was curious to see, and to know, how it ended. She owed him that much.
People spoke of a storm like none before. She had been stricken by the sound of its anger; thrashing around their cottage all through that long night.
He’d never spoken much about being at sea; perhaps he had been content out there. She gazed at the wreck through warm tears and she whispered to him, as the breeze stirred the sails into ragged, beautiful shapes.