Photo: Through Trees to Lake by Lilla Frerichs 


Mister Smith bought a lakeside cabin deep in the woods last summer, for cash. Apart from a weekly trip to my store, he kept himself to himself. Sometimes he’d fish from a dinghy that came with the property.

Smith was civil, but not exactly polite. Not the type you’d socialize with – he always seemed reluctant to converse. But that last time, he asked me if any strangers had been in, enquiring about him. I assured him no one had. Like they told me to.

That was three weeks ago. His cabin’s empty now. Maybe he’s taken the boat and gone.

( 100 word fiction)

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