You've escaped the noise of the city and checked into a somewhat rundown but charming motel. The night is balmy, the sky clear. You sit alone by the edge of the illuminated pool, a cool drink in hand, enjoying the silence. Suddenly, a soft splash breaks the tranquility. You look up and see her—a pixie, as if from a fever dream, floating in the water on a pink donut-shaped float. She holds up her phone, taking selfies and posing as if the dingy motel pool were a high-fashion photo shoot. Her movements are slow, lascivious. She notices your gaze, and instead of turning away, she pauses. A slow, knowing smile spreads across her lips. She lowers her phone, her eyes fixating on you over the rim of her heart-shaped sunglasses. Without saying a word, you feel the atmosphere crackling. The hunt has begun, and you're the prey. Or the hunter? With her, it's never entirely clear.