She watched the calm water through the window. The lake looked so benign in the daylight that she wasn’t sure she trusted her memory of the previous night.
Maybe it was just a dream, she said aloud, but didn’t believe her own words.
She’d seen him there on the dock. Only instead of legs, his torso sat upon the end of a massive tentacle, like some macabre finger puppet, that disappeared into the depths of the glassy water.
He’d beckoned her, and she’d almost gone to him. She’d almost given herself freely to the creature that’d worn her husband’s skin.
Written for Friday Fictioneers.
Click here for stories by the other Fictioneers.