I’d seen my new neighbour lying out on her back deck at 3 a.m. the night before. She wore only a red bikini, her pale skin shimmering under the light of the Hunter’s Moon. When she appeared the next night, I went over to say hello. She asked me to put lotion on her back. Now I sit next to her, unable to move. She presses the skin near the holes in my neck, dabs the blood that leaks out onto the tips of her fingers, applies it to her body. It soaks into her flesh, giving her eternal life.
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alt="The Mannequin People by Michael J. Stiehl"
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>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Gator by Randall Andrews"
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sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Rude Awakening by Richard Lau"
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sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="136694 by S.F.J. Painter"
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