Murky Waters
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"Arthur? Arthur? Are you there?" I whispered tentatively, holding the oil wick lantern close to the surface of the water, searching for any sign of him. From his black felt cap to his red jacket, I was knee-high, paddling through the swampy waters, intensely searching for him. I hoped that he was fooling around, and not somewhere, drowned. However, it was silent. No sound was made to indicate his presence. That was when I knew I was treading dangerously in murky waters.
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