I just can’t see her.

I’d nodded off.

Did someone take her?

Jolted awake by fear I’m now standing trying to make myself taller. Dread dropping heavy in my tummy. Panic builds. Her little legs had been weaving between holidaymakers all day. Not hearing my blond poppet pass by them, giggling as she brought her treasures up the shore.

She isn’t on the beach.

My gaze runs along the tide line. I squint into the sun scanning every shape. Scouring the sea. Would it be better to see her mop of curls bobbing between waves?

A sorrow laden wail starts


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