“No,” replied Gilbert. “I’ll soon be back.”
He stepped outdoors into the misty darkness. Girls scurried to a motel room down the way. The last greeted him with a grin before entering.
Having purchased refreshments at a diner, he commenced the drive back. A candlelit procession advanced towards the seashore village cemetery. He pulled over to watch.
The last person seemingly passed through the gate, turning to grin. Gilbert gasped. It was the girl seen earlier at his motel.
Blackness returned to the cemetery— home to countless children; victims of the 19th century cholera outbreak.