This week’s photo prompt from Madison Woods’ Friday Fictioneers.
She appeared exhausted. The alien had tracked her for days, and she’d not rested, driving herself relentlessly on.
As she stumbled towards the ruins, it sensed victory at hand.
Now she’d sleep. Now it could infiltrate her consciousness, explore and tap the resources it needed, ravage that fine intellect which had resisted all earlier attempts at domination.
She slept; the silver tracks of her dreams spiralled through the holes in the roof. The hovering alien seized one and entered her.
Seconds later, it recoiled in horror, launching itself from the confines of her mind.
“Shoes?” it shrieked, “who dreams of shoes, for God’s sake?”
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