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by Matt Krizan
Karina lingers at the end of the dock, watching for Ryan to resurface. The water shimmers in the moonlight, while cicadas drown out the sound of gentle waves lapping against the pilings. She shuts her eyes as she remembers their early days together, skinny-dipping on summer nights just like this one.
Five minutes of waiting becomes ten, then a half-hour—still no sign of Ryan.
A warm breeze tugs loose the scarf concealing the mark of his hands around her throat. Karina sighs, tension seeps from her neck and shoulders.
She’d been afraid she hadn’t weighed his body down enough.
Matt Krizan lives in Royal Oak, Michigan, where he spends his days listening to the voices inside his head. Sometimes those voices tell him stories. Sometimes he writes those stories down.