Creative ai

A photograph taken with a disposable film camera with a flash.

A teenage girl, sleeping, lies tense in bed, lit only by a dim, rotating lighthouse-shaped nightlight on the night table. His bedroom is still — but something’s not right.

The blanket is no longer fabric. It has transformed into a photorealistic ocean, dark and restless. Choppy waves roll across the bed’s surface, slick with moonlight. The texture is uncanny — water, not cloth.

Atop the ocean-blanket, a small boat — the Orca — pushes through the swell. Its hull is weathered, leaning slightly, as if reacting to something below. Three yellow barrels float beside it.

A great blue shark emerges mid-turn — its fin and snout breaching a churning wave, wet and glistening — while its body stays submerged, bent and blurred beneath the water’s moving lens.

The girls hair lifts slightly in a breeze that doesn’t belong. His face is tight, twitching in REM sleep.

In the corner, a lighthouse-shaped nightlight slowly rotates, casting a beam across the wall like a searchlight at sea. Reflections shimmer across the room — warped, watery, like they’re bouncing off real surf.

On the floor beside the bed, a worn paperback lies open, cover facing up:
“JAWS — 50 YEARS.”