She had only been taking a photo of the landscape in the opposite direction and when she turned back around, he was gone. Searching the area around her feverishly, she suddenly saw a hand shoot out of the ground somewhere ahead of her. Horrified, she recognised it as her husband’s.
Ignoring the tug of the bog, she dragged her feet forwards, inch by inch trying to reach him. They had gone too far, this was never meant to happen, she felt like screaming.
When she tripped over the thick undergrowth that zigzagged across her path, she desperately pushed herself forward, her hand reaching for her husband’s, who had now resurfaced and was trying to force his way back to safe ground. Their hands brushing for a second, their eyes met. Then both were sucked deep into the abyss of the bog.
© 2016
Friday Fictioneers, 5th February 2016
Photo prompt provided by Erin Leary
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