by Gregory Jr. Mouton (Author)

The Bayou was quiet when they found her.

The water had carried her to the bank like a secret ready to be heard.

It was the boy who saw her first a son out fishing with his father before the heat settled in. The sun was still low, the world half asleep. She floated face-down in the slow current, hair fanned like river grass, flies already gathering though the day had barely begun.

The father pulled the boy back.

The Bayou didn't ask questions.

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