Message the mystery woman back, asking who she meant to text

Vellys' NOTE: It looks like the original author wrote this without publishing it... A part of me wants to edit it a bit, but i'll respect the author and leave it as is...

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You look down at the message again. You can't escape the need to reply, somehow. It seems like an invitation—but if it's for someone else, who knows how it was supposed to be taken. If you just show up at the lake...well, things could get awkward, fast.

You almost regret the decision before you finish composing it.

YOU: Sorry to write this, but I don't have your number in my phone. Who did you mean to text?

You wait for a reply. A minute goes by with no response, then two, then three. Your instincts were right, you think, it was a wrong number and a hookup and the mystery woman was embarrassed. Oh well. Better not to mess around.

Just as you click off the light to go to bed, an incoming text arrives.

UNKNOWN: I meant to text you. ;-) I'm getting in the water now. It's not far. Come.

UKNOWN: [photo]

Your phone takes a moment to download the photo—she must have a different phone from yours—and you watch as the image comes into resolution. First a blur; then, you can make out some shapes, a white circle at the top and fuzzy grays and blues and blacks; finally, a picture of the lake in the moonlight. You can see the outline of the sand, the black of the water, and a little floating dock. And it looks like someone's head and bare shoulders, partway out.

You zoom on that part of the photo, hoping to see a face, but you can't be sure it's even a person and not a trick of the light. Still, it looks like a person.

YOU: Looks like a nice night. Is that you, by yourself?

You send the message, hoping for any response, but this time it's just silence. Or she's playing with you. Time to decide: stay home, or go to the lake?