Sitting on a stone
and staring off
into the everlasting sea,
hunched over,
a Woman is longing
may it be for
a walk in the sand,
a slow in the tides,
or just a friend.
looking at her,
I feel the ocean
calling to me
as naturally as she
swims through its waves
looking at her,
yearning to reach out
My heart…
yet she’s hard as ever
as she overlooks
the horizon.


FWF ~ Never Seen

This is your view. Tell me…  Are you drowning (literally/metaphorically)? Is this a memory? Are you scared or having fun? I want you to completely immerse yourself in the image and just start writing. Go!

I’m not even sure if they see me as they swim off in the distance.

My arms pound against the current just to stay afloat. I’m holding my breath, praying nothing happens, praying they don’t look my direction.

This was supposed to be my spot, not theirs.

The sun reflecting from the crystal clear water nearly blinds me. I submerge and open my eyes under water, and immediately feel relief. The salt from the water welcomes and refreshes even my skin. I hate it when I try to hard to stay above water for too long. It’s like being in a world where you can’t breathe, your skin dries unbearably in an instant and speaking is impossible.

Humans blow my mind. They can handle it. I wish I could understand. But, alas, I have scales and they do not. They have legs and I do not. I have gills and they certainly do not–how do they even breathe?

The human children make joyous noises while slapping around the waves. I’m sure it would hurt my own ears if I were above water again. From under, it’s distorted and somewhat funny to listen to. It’s not a sound I am familiar with but it likens itself to my ears. It’s rather nice. My own kind don’t make those kinds of noises.

Clicks, whistles and gurgles are what I’m used to. Not many others are, but I’m special. There are only two living Pisci–I happen to be one of them. The other, a much older merwoman, never leaves her hut, let alone venture to where the animals live.

Almost on cue, there are coos behind me. Phydio is always keeping tabs on me by order of King Dedric.

“We must protect the Betrothed,” the King has said far too many times for my liking. I may be the Betrothed but I’m still young.

I can take care of myself. Ignoring the old seahorse behind me, I swim up into a jump out of the water and come crashing down.

Somehow I know that I’ve caught the young humans’ attention. It’s hard not to notice a large body of silver scales complete with a long whispy tail.

Maelle, Phydio softly coos and I try to ignore it. You know the rules. It’s time to head back.

I smirk. Oh, come on. I’m just having fun.

Phydios golden long-snouted head is shaking in dismay. He hates it when I disobey orders because he’s the one who gets punished since he can’t explain himself. The King kind of has a soft spot for his future daughter-in-law, and he lacks the ability to speak to sea creatures like me. Instead, he can never die. I’m not even sure how old he is. I would be too afraid to ask.


Phydio suddenly sounds alarmed. Spinning around, I see small bodies approaching us. I may like to have fun but I’m no dummy. They see me and we are all finished.

I snatch Phydio by the neck and dart away into deeper waters. Those young humans didn’t get a good enough look at me. At least, I don’t think they did.

It’s a couple minutes before either of us says anything. When we reach Eloni Peak, the highest mountain in Ondina and the gateway to the Kingdom of Tiveny, I stop. Phydio isn’t allowed past here. He may be what merfolk consider a “safe creature” but an old spell cast by Sea God Neriyo literally repels any creature from entering our domain.

Well… Phydio pauses. That went well. Be safe, young one. Don’t wander off too much. Only Neriyo knows what kind of ideas you’ll get. 

It’s only too apparent he is rolling his eyes. He knows I only go to Silver Cove and only on occasion. Smiling at him, I let Phydio go. Aside from the King, Phydio is the next best thing to a father figure even though he’s a sea horse.

I guess that’s what happens when you’re an orphaned mermaid.

I guess you can say this is a past snippet from one of my dormant WIPs that came to mind at the photo Kellie Elmore used as a prompt. I haven’t touched it since I did a re-haul on naming the characters. Considering picking it up again.