SPAWNING GROUND, by Hannah LackoffWhen they get to the hotel, it is almost dark, and the air is wet and close. Their room has a tiny balcony, and mosquitos and moths beat themselves against the bare lightbulb. Hellie stands underneath to watch them, but Mariella doesn’t get too close.
Come inside, she says, but Hellie shakes her head. Her long hair has dried in loops and curls across her back. Her legs look strange in the artificial light. Mariella takes a tin of nuts from the minibar. They are hard and salty, like the sea.
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In the morning they put on their bathing suits and head down to the pool, but there is an early mist and no one else is around. They buy plastic bottles of iced tea at the kiosk and lounge in the chairs with their legs propped out in front of them, just waiti
