Marco’s mother told him never to play by the water.

But his first time wasn’t so bad. He touched something green buried in the sand. It was soft and slimy and cold. The second time there were eyes watching him. The third time it whispered his name and held his hand all the way down to the bottom.

Marco never played by the water again.

Microfiction entry (11.17.2020) by Luke Atkinson | Photo by arsalan arianmehr on Unsplash.