The Little Mermaid....The Seaweed is always Greener........
When he found her she was sat on a rock amongst the sharp corals of the earths floor motionless. The lank seaweed straggling through her hair in unison with the waves which circled round like a net, isolating their world from the suns warm heart and encasing the merpeople in one cold and translucent bubble. The crab swam closer. He crossed the mass graveyard of deserted shells which littered the sea bed carelessly scattered in all directions, crumbling at a touch, dissolving into nothing.
The Mermaids face was still alabaster pale as her fathers words danced around her head like taunting ghosts. Her glare flitted briefly from the sky above to the crab and back again, resting there until a passing ship covered the gap in the rocks, finishing the seal between her and the land. The crab sat beside her.
The seaweed is always greener in somebody else’s lake. Ok.
Ok.
Still perched on the rock the mermaid listened as the crab pumped a heavy tune from the organ placed in the centre of the cave. His desperate attempts to glorify living under the sea became lost and buried in the ruins of the ship wreck from the night before. In a world of his own deep thoughts the crab disappeared only stopping to take breath, ranting at the mermaids contradictions. Oh Christ. His scarlet face drained of all colour and his sudden silence shot the atmosphere dead. She was gone.
He searched for days, the trail long and never ending. Visiting the far corners of the sea bed he saw no other fish or turtle or mollusc and spent the time dodging falling fragments of casually disregarded filth sent from the shore above. When he woke in the morning from yet another restless night he walked out into the ocean and sat on a pile of rubble looking at the corroding landscape unable to see the life the ocean once held for him. At that moment he heard the mermaids voice, so distinguished yet muffled by the waters torrent. The crab put his things in his bag threw his bag over his shoulder and ran faster than he had breath enough to do so.
On coming closer, the sound getting clearer he stopped dead. Oh Christ he repeated. Oh Christ, as he followed the mermaid into the cave of the sea witch. He crept through a rock at the side of the cave and plunged into the blanket of darkness only to be greeted by the witches eels, their illuminating eyes piercing the dark haze.
Run, he whispered. But his words we lost to the Mermaid. She acknowledged him with a spiteful glance then turned her attentions back to the sea witch and carelessly bargained her voice for as if it a broken instrument. Unable to stop her, restrained by the guards the crab looked on.
The sharp air spat water in disgust at their appearance on the surface. Grainy sand. Dull clouds. Silence. What had she done?
The Mermaids face was still alabaster pale as her fathers words danced around her head like taunting ghosts. Her glare flitted briefly from the sky above to the crab and back again, resting there until a passing ship covered the gap in the rocks, finishing the seal between her and the land. The crab sat beside her.
The seaweed is always greener in somebody else’s lake. Ok.
Ok.
Still perched on the rock the mermaid listened as the crab pumped a heavy tune from the organ placed in the centre of the cave. His desperate attempts to glorify living under the sea became lost and buried in the ruins of the ship wreck from the night before. In a world of his own deep thoughts the crab disappeared only stopping to take breath, ranting at the mermaids contradictions. Oh Christ. His scarlet face drained of all colour and his sudden silence shot the atmosphere dead. She was gone.
He searched for days, the trail long and never ending. Visiting the far corners of the sea bed he saw no other fish or turtle or mollusc and spent the time dodging falling fragments of casually disregarded filth sent from the shore above. When he woke in the morning from yet another restless night he walked out into the ocean and sat on a pile of rubble looking at the corroding landscape unable to see the life the ocean once held for him. At that moment he heard the mermaids voice, so distinguished yet muffled by the waters torrent. The crab put his things in his bag threw his bag over his shoulder and ran faster than he had breath enough to do so.
On coming closer, the sound getting clearer he stopped dead. Oh Christ he repeated. Oh Christ, as he followed the mermaid into the cave of the sea witch. He crept through a rock at the side of the cave and plunged into the blanket of darkness only to be greeted by the witches eels, their illuminating eyes piercing the dark haze.
Run, he whispered. But his words we lost to the Mermaid. She acknowledged him with a spiteful glance then turned her attentions back to the sea witch and carelessly bargained her voice for as if it a broken instrument. Unable to stop her, restrained by the guards the crab looked on.
The sharp air spat water in disgust at their appearance on the surface. Grainy sand. Dull clouds. Silence. What had she done?
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