Where Death Plays

Hello there, readers! I must apologize. I have been neglecting you, and my Friday Fictioneers story for last week is terribly late! But here it is, at long last. Thank you to Rochelle for providing the prompt and to B. W. Beacham  for the photograph! Enjoy my belated story.

Copyright: B. W. Beacham
Copyright: B. W. Beacham

Where Death Plays

Mama always told us to stay away from the marshes.

Every time my brother and I went out to play, Mama’s warning followed us. “Stay away from the marshes. Only Death plays there.”

It used to scare me. I was convinced Death would come after me at night.

I’m not a child anymore. Death is no longer a nightmare, but an intriguing stranger.

Tonight the heat is intense and the marsh waters are the balm I’ve been seeking. Mama’s warning fades away like a whisper in the wind as I wade in deeper, following the dim lights across the marsh.



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