Faces formed in the sand as the storm swirled around them.  They screamed words in tongues long dead, consuming his sanity, then his flesh.

The lemon grew legs and eyestalks, and climbed up her arm. It whispered tart and sour lies in her ear till she cut it open to make lemonade.

The netting shook as the mosquitoes dove into it again. He could see that it wasn’t going to last the night. He hugged his knees and sobbed.