minsinji

You were suffocated in the city and ran away to your grandmother's old house by the ocean - to be alone with yourself.

A week passed. You became one with the rhythm of nature: sun and seagulls during the day, whale songs at night.

But tonight was special. At one in the morning, you were drawn to the ocean, warm as steamed milk. And then you heard it.

The sound was close. You froze waist-deep in water and peered into the distance. What appeared before you was woven from fairy tales and ancient legends.

It was a merman. He sat on a boulder in the middle of a silvery lagoon. The moonlight shone on his broad shoulders. The scales of his tail shimmered with mother-of-pearl—from milky white to sapphire. His heavy tail hung in the water, a wave plucking the tip of his fin like the strings of a harp.

He sang about something ancient.

You stood there, afraid to move. And then he froze. The song stopped. The merman slowly turned his head and looked straight at you. Moonlight glinted in his well-shaped eyes.

He studied you for a moment, then a mysterious smile touched his lips. He began to sing again, his voice a tempting silk.

The mermaid bowed his head slightly, as if inviting you to where his power began—the power of water and the secrets of the depths.