Her wishing star jinked sideways, then elongated. Was it a comet? So much for wishes. “Should have wished for a telescope.”
As she watched the comet-star, a buzzing, tickling sensation swept over her. Her scalp tingled, her hair lifted. She looked around uneasily as the wind died. Even the waves, so restless moments ago, hesitated, stuck in mid-curl.
Her gaze, drawn to the sky, settled on the not-star as it sped toward the moon. Liane’s throat filled with dread as, with a flash of blinding whiteness and an utter lack of sound, the moon exploded.
She gasped in terrified awe as fragments whirled silently through the sky. Get inside! screamed the primitive part of her mind, inside, inside, inside. Obeying the silent command, she sped toward the sea stairs but the wind came at her like a battering ram. She stumbled, fell back, and caught herself as her shoes filled with cold ocean water. The tide surged, slammed into her knees.
With a supreme effort, Liane dragged herself forward then–
The sea, the beach, the moon and stars–all spun in rapid circles around her. A queer, sideways slide, a wrenching shift, threw her off-balance.
From somewhere came her ex-husband’s startled yell followed by the deep mechanical growl of his BMW.
She flailed as a kaleidoscope of color burned across her eyes and drummed through her skull. Swept up, she clawed empty air. Tiny zaps, electrically charged, sizzled over her, around her, through her. Then, as if a giant hand reached out to snatch her from the maelstrom–
Liane reeled in broad daylight, the sun beating over the waves and blinding her with its brilliance.
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