Zeke
The sun hasn’t come up yet.
Part of me fears that it may stay night forever.
I sigh and lean against the railing as my eyes scan over the still expanse of the swamp. Although silence hangs in the early morning air, I sense that we’re not alone out here on the edge of the shadow-kissed swamp.
“You feel it too?” Miss Penny asks from beside me. I hadn’t noticed her materialize, but I’m not particularly surprised. After all, she’s not the only ghost who haunts this place.
“Yes, ma’am,” I nod, barely taking my eyes off the swaying limbs of the cypress trees. “He’s out there.”
“Amos is one tough bastard,” she huffs. I think that she’s being a bit too charitable in her assessment. “Has the sorry excuse for a husband caved?”
A sick feeling blossoms inside of me as I tip my head again.
