Lost

Wind brushed through reeds poking up from marshy swampland as her lantern struggled to penetrate the murky night; each muddy step more difficult than the last.

“Willow?”

Her tone plaintive as tears threatened.

In the distance, a bark. A tentative smile and then, wet fur with sloppy kisses.

This month’s microprose had to be 48 words in length and reference a lantern. Click on the link and vote for your favorites!

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