by John Xero
They say the pier is haunted.
Years ago, me and Lily used to fool around under there. We had this secret spot at the top end, where it was always damp, always dark. Right below the seafood guy. People would be above us, eating their cockles and muscles and shrimps, and Lily would be trembling beneath me and I’d be kissing her hard to keep her from crying out.
But in the damp and the dark, our lust woke something, something old and lascivious. I made it out, but Lily...
They say the pier's haunted; it’s Lily’s moans they hear.