“Marco” by Karen Heslop

Pinpricks of sunlight simmered on the horizon as Donald stepped into the chilly river, whispering the incantation he had been given. He had stripped off his jeans and shirt and so was left in shorts and a thin undershirt. He was only a few steps in before he started to shiver.

Marco,” he whispered.

The local spiritualist had a decent reputation but he still felt foolish following her ritual for contacting the dead. As instructed, he had waited for ‘almost sunset’ and gone back to where his 4-year old daughter had always been at her happiest. A gift was also on the list but Lily had been so picky in life, Donald had never gotten her gifts then and it seemed like a poor choice to start now. The only thing he knew Lily had enjoyed was this game.

Marco,” Donald whispered again.

The water rippled with each tentative step, dredging up Donald’s memories of months before…

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