“Staring out his sliding door, wishing for sleep, Jacob spied his new neighbour, poised atop a beach towel, rubbing lotion over gleaming moonlit porcelain skin. Adjusting her scant blood-red bikini, she lay back as if starting a mid-afternoon sunbath.
Suddenly swathed in full moonlight, she blossomed blindingly bright. Blinking away afterimages, Jacob saw her towel, smouldering in the grass, empty. He rushed outside; stopped short. Basking, glowing, she smiled, moonbeams glinting off—what the hell? She brushed his arm. A sharp prick, then darkness.
Dew-covered, Jacob awoke, a throbbing rash wrapping his arm, radiating from an embedded porcelain-white cactus spine.
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alt="Mixed Fortunes by Liam Hogan"
class="motion-reduce"
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width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Fly by Deborah Tapper"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
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height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Boneyard by Pauline Barmby"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="The Late Night Cleaning Crew by Michelle Brett"
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loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>