The river was out of its banks again. Muddy torrents rushed around the bend as they headed for the dam at the old water plant. Trees swayed at the edge of the water, looking as if they would topple in at any moment. She had walked down this trail so many times, it had been her “quiet place” as a teen. But not today, it held the roar of a restless spirit. She saw the old mill stone laying near the path. Beside it, something caught her eyes. A human skull, she thought, sucking in her breath. No! Not again!
A Quiet Place