Camper

Pixel Dreams

She was overdressed to be a camper, he thought. She wore an elegant jacket in teal with matching shirt and pants, high heel black boots and dark leather gloves. And yet there she sat, at the edge of the shore. Her eyes were lost in an invisible horizon covered by the thick fog.

“Have you been here often?”

She didn’t reply. She just sat there, motionless.

“Are you on vacation?”

She shivered slightly and pointed.

He couldn’t see anything.

“What is it?”

She stood up.

Something trickled in the water, but he couldn’t quite make out what it was. When he turned towards her, she was gone. He got his face close to the surface, trying to understand.

“Is that…?”

He crawled backwards in horror towards the tent and sat where she was before. It was her in the river, mouth open in a cry for help, the woman who had been sitting by the tent.

Writer's Dash