The sandwich is so delicious & invigorating that you swim fourteen laps at the motel pool and seventeen in the canadian lake. Late in the evening, still full of protein & carbs, you start whittling a pine tree into the shape of a dutch boy. You're doing well, focusing on a clog, when a tall, dark figure emerges from the trees. As it approaches, you discern the telltale features of femininity, but you know at once that this is no mortal woman. The flame-colored hair that cloaks her massive shoulders glows with a peculiar, otherworldly intensity; in her beautiful, hollow eyes you sense embers of despair. She beckons to you. "Come to me," she says, in hollow, echoing tones.
