For the short story reader. Updated every Monday.

The Short Form

“The Shadows Behind the Trees”

Sam Weller


He stood still, his heart leaping. Slowly she walked out, toward him. The family, far down at the lake sat in quietude, their backs to the encounter. Chris Tucker stood motionless as little Francine, tentative, unsure, edged closer.

She walked up to him. Looking up and reaching out with her small, dirty hand. There was mud under her chipped fingernails.

Chris Tucker slowly extended his hand, and they touched. They held hands for a moment—the father looking down at the little girl.

We read it in Listen to The Echoes.