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The Mists Of Time

by Andrew Atkinson
Originally published by on 21/03/2018

“Jane’s only six, Billy. You’re nearly eight, so look after her,' pleaded their mother. “It’s really foggy today, so hold her hand on the way home.'

After school, Billy waited for Jane and dutifully took her hand.

How they parted company was never really uncovered – it was icy as well as foggy – but one or both of them slipped. Billy could not see his sister. “Jane!' he called, his voice disappearing in the swirling fog.

Now, seventy years later and after a lifetime of sorrow and guilt, the mystery remained. Jane sighed and yet again wondered what happened to Billy.

Andrew Atkinson Merits

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Threads about this drabble

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I want MORE, please! Olliebeak 1 Olliebeak
2018-03-21 11:44:54