Serena didn’t regret the deal, not exactly. Yet, for long years she hadn’t come back here, where it all began.
The ocean lay at her feet, seemingly quiet, but Serena could hear a muffled rumble in the deep. The water was distrustful like a loyal dog whose master had gone off to a long war and when he finally returned, he’d changed so much that his old friend found it difficult to recognise him.
Serena had a good life or at least that’s what she kept telling herself.
The sand felt warm and velvety under her toes and she remembered the time when these feelings were new. How foreign and exhilarating it was to walk, to have legs and the secret between her legs she only discovered later; a gateway to pleasure and creation.
Erik found her lying on the shore naked and cold and fell in love with her right away. He loved the ocean blue of her eyes, her skin, pale as mother of pearl and her silence that made his words seem even more important.
The only thing Serena regretted was that she couldn’t sing her land’s ancient lullabies to her daughter even though the melody rang in her soul and she heard its echo whenever she lifted a seashell to her ear.
She’d been away for so long she wondered if her old home would take her back, but when she finally jumped in, the waves closed above her in a warm embrace.
Fanni Sütő writer, poet, translator and the proud owner of a growing number of novels-in-progress. She publishes in English and Hungarian and finds inspiration in reading, paintings and music. She writes about everything which comes in her way or goes bump in the night. She tries to find the magical in the everyday and likes to spy on the secret life of cities and their inhabitants. Previous publications include: The Casket of Fictional Delights, Tincture Journal, Enchanted Conversation. Paris Lit Up 5. Website: www.inkmapsandmacarons.com Twitter: @Fanni_Pumpkin
Miranda - The Tempest by John William Waterhouse, 1916.