Friday Fictioneers: Gone Swimming
Sara looks up at the stained-glass dolphin and, as is her custom, says a silent prayer for Rachel, the baby they had lost to the cold ocean storm years ago. The smell of brine is heavy in the air.
Her prayer is interrupted when the front door slams open to announce her husband’s arrival. When Sara goes out into the hallway, she spots a wet trail of sandy footprints leading into the living room.
“Darling?” Sara rounds the corner in a hurry and suddenly stops in her tracks.
Upon the floor she finds a naked child curled fast asleep, sandy water pooling beneath her. Rachel had found her way home.
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