Friday Fictioneers

31 January 2025

https://rochellewisoff.com/2025/01/29/31-january-2025/

Betsy walked slowly toward the dock. Billy had called her and told her to look for the green tackle box with the yellow handle and that he would be there waiting, she just had to be patient.

The smell was overpowering, making Betsy dry heave as she wandered through stacks of fishing crates.

When she saw his sneaker sticking out from under one of the tarp covered lobster pots Betsy knew something was terribly wrong. Without checking on Billy further, Betsy ran as fast as she could, away from that horrible fishing dock, hoping the person responsible didn’t see her.