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The Eleven O'Clock Sparrow
mysteryEveryone6 contributors · 5 paragraphs deep
I picked up the chain. A locket. Inside: a photo. My sister. Smiling. But the photo was dated today. My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number: "She's waiting at the fountain. Come say goodbye properly." My hands went numb.
I typed back: "Who are you?" Three dots. Then: "I'm the version of your sister who lived. The city's been giving you a gift. A chance to talk to her one last time. To say sorry." I walked back to the fountain. There she was. Not quite solid. Not quite real. But here.
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