lunaeleven

From the water.

She came out of the sea like a mermaid washing up to shore, unknown, unprecedented, unexpected. Like a thing no one wanted to touch but everyone wanted to look at, with greedy eyes and sharp prodding sticks. Her limp bones hung translucent against the dark sand, a crowd had gathered, like her birth was a spectacle for the masses. Soon, when the murmuring people realised she had not opened her eyes since the fourth degree, and it was now time for food, they wandered off, leaving only one villager standing.

            The old lady had such withered skin that the salts in the blusters that came from the water settled in her cracks and creases like a mask. The blood orange sun had disappeared now, so only a ring of clouds lined the horizon, welcoming the new moon. The old lady got down on her hands and knees and pushed the sand out of the girl’s eyelashes. In one moment, the past and the present merged into one, and the winds paused their breath, holding it to allow room for the girl’s.

            And she was born. And with her came the history of so many things, it would be such a waste to spoil it all here.