Luscious Lake
LUSCIOUS LAKE IS THE ULTIMATE SELF-CARE VACATION DESTINATION!
Allow our helicopter to drop you onto the rim of the bowl of jungle surrounding the lake. Experience the pleasure of gazing down upon a warm, fragrant, emerald tropical heaven. Leave your shoes with us and proceed barefoot. Let the soil’s medicinal qualities seep into the soles of your feet. The snakes and spiders and poisonous amphibious life in this jungle will do you no harm if you stay on the trail.
You will not descend to Luscious Lake in silence. Birds will call, honk, screech, and warble, fluttering blurry visions of bright color flashing in the impenetrable green. The insect buzz will take on a harmonious quality. It will be hot, and you will sweat, but the cool breezes will make even this pleasurable. You will get sticky, like a ripe fruit newly peeled, or a berry crushed in green fingertips, and the juice of you will run—allow it to. This detoxing is a part of the package. Keep walking. You will sweat your self-judgments away soon enough. They have no place here.
Hours down the trail, enveloped in the twilight of foliage between you and sky, the sun will dapple you in white gold light. You will like you are meant to be here, like the jungle is pleased to host you. You will feel blessed. The soil underfoot will be drier here, stone-studded, occasionally piercing. This is a good sign. You will need a sharp stone soon.
Feel the breeze begin to dissipate? You are getting close. The patches of white-gold light gilding your skin are thicker and brighter here. There is less birdsong, less bug-buzz, more susurrus from the shifting leaves. You will soon hear the shushing of the waters of Luscious Lake getting closer. You will feel relieved! You will have been walking the green tunnel for so long that you will have begun to wonder if you will ever arrive. During this last bit of the descent, you’ll begin to notice the little mango-like fruits growing in the green overhead, bigger and bigger the further down you go. Yellow on top and deep brownish purple on the bottoms, swollen and dripping syrup, ready to burst. You’ll think about peeling, about juices, about hunger. This is good. Hold on to that hunger.
The curtain of vines between you and the lake will thin and then you will be through.
On the pebbly shore of Luscious Lake, the light is softer. The birdsong is faint, like memories of jewelry box melodies. Your heartbeat will thump harder and faster, dizzying, like you’ve been climbing up instead of down, almost like altitude sickness. The air will be heavy with the perfume of sweet algae and lake water.
Are you ready?
Walk to the edge of the lake.
Do not get in.
Do you remember the story of Narcissus?
Kneel beside the lake, and cast your eye upon your reflection. It will take your breath away.
You will want to strip off your clothes. Do it, and leave them by the water. You will want to remove any jewelry as well; how dull it will look, compared to the unspoiled splendor of your reflection in the water. You will watch yourself touch your own face, amazed at the sight, this idealized version of you tinted by the turquoise depths. You will touch yourself, everywhere, feeling the truth of you under your hands: your flaws, your clumps and coarseness, your stinking, curdling flesh. Nothing like the version of you in the lake. You will desire that vision. You will reach in to touch it. It will reach back.
Its grasp will be firm. It will know what follows. It has been through this before.
Remember that.
Up the shore will be a large flat stone. You will walk there together, hand in hand. You will pull. You will drag. The pebbles underfoot will be loose, sharp, slippery. Drag harder. Haul the thing onto the altar-stone. There will be a sharp rock or two within reaching distance. Select the one that fits best in your free hand. The work will be slippery—make sure the sharp rock feels secure in your grip.
Strike five times. Strike hard. Remember—the screams are only birdsong. The splitting rind, the splintering bones, the bright bloody splashing soaking stain—this is all just the rupturing of sweet, delicious fruit. The cursing growls of rage and hate are simply the wind bristling the leaves. The scratching, the gouging, the biting; these are only sharp pebbles in your skin.
You may feel sick, you may even vomit—that's okay. Try to remember, you were the only one who was ever going to make it out of here alive.
Do not return to the water, do not look back, just go. Leave your things; we will be waiting for you in the helicopter. The climb up the path will be steep, it will exhaust and hurt, so let it; the suffering will ease your mind. Filth and gore are all part of rebirth. Uncomfortable. Sacred. Well-deserved.
On the rim of the bowl above Luscious Lake, we will bundle you in a warm clean robe, fly you to your hotel, pack your bags, and send you home. Your thoughts may stay behind in the jungle for some time—but the nightmares will fade.
Trust us.
And what a difference you will see in two weeks! You will glow with health and beauty, from the inside out. Every time you pass a mirror, you will see that reflection from the lake, and you will never doubt yourself. You will be favored, prized, for exactly who you are.
You are worth any sacrifice.
BOOK A STAY AT LUSCIOUS LAKE RESORT TODAY!
© 2025 Erin Brown
About the Author
Erin Brown is a poet and author of horror, fabulist, and fantasy short fiction. She has been published in FIYAH Magazine, Nightmare Magazine, Midnight and Indigo, The Deadlands, Eastover Press Rural Writers Anthology, Escape Pod, and And One Day We Will Die: Neutral Milk Hotel anthology, Fantasy Magazine, and many others, with a debut novelette “Garden of the Bloodpotter” through Psychopomp Press publishing in Summer 2025.
She will be finishing her M.A. in Creative Writing in Winter of 2026. Previously published works can be found at ebrownwrites.com.