In My Tragedy, I Found Mercy.
Shasta Moran’s reoccurring nightmare:
Shasta scanned the frozen snow covered lake. The cold north wind picked up shards of icy snow pelting her face. Ignoring the sting, she squints through the sunlight reflecting off the ice. Watching, waiting, wondering, “Will Bill surface through the broken ice?”
While the pelting snow mixes with her tears, it happens. Off in the distance, Bill…