The Marina Bay.


A slivery beacon bobbles up and down along the frontiers of the aquamarine bay. A little pale skinned foot slid into the warm blankets of the smooth battering waves, slowly trickling upwards to her waist, up to her breast and right up to the scorch of her neck. Dabbling her foot for the last touch on the slimy grey rock down below, her hands lightly glides across the reflective moon-lit sea- she sinks below, letting the air slowly drain her out. A light hazel circular shape beams through the dark rays ushering for her to come, waving a coral like hand, one finger from a tight fist; whispering the words without moving its lips to come. The creature smiles elegantly with its moving wisps of seaweed hair. The girl beams back, grinning, slowly moving along with the currents to the pale green smooth like hand. Little did she know – it maybe a trap – for a grinding noise cowers above her.


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