“At the Burying Point”
by Melissa Hogle

He slipped through the Salem masses, letting their ebb and flow carry him across the center of celebration. Salty ocean and sticky-sweet caramel wafted above the countless costumed bodies. Street performers breathed fire while preachers fervently warned of the Devil. Samuel passed kiosks, headed down side streets. All he sensed was her and the closer he got, the more intense her presence became.

Strong hands pulled at his gut. …I’ve missed you… Her voice tempted across the waves. …Oh, how I’ve missed you…

“Ammon,” Always his last name, whispered as if he was the god.

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