from Predator/Play
Waterlocked
There is an island on a lake, far from any port.
The only sources of light on this black night are:
the moon—perfectly full in all its cold, blue glory—
and a cluster of humans writhing and pulsating
around light bulbs and flames. Their faces are hidden
behind masks and streaks of fluorescent paint.
They jeer and howl, more at the moon-orbs of their own eyes
than at the moon above. A young woman wanders away
from the explosive noise of the crowd towards
something—silence? Safety? Away from all of this
movement, this noise. The lights burn
even through her closed eyelids. She walks, then runs
up the hill further into the unknown.