The suddenness of love.

I could never resist a handsome face. I’d see him, leaning over the side of a boat, and I’d be struck by a lightning bolt of desire. I’d hear a voice raised in song and my heart would burst open. Always a shock, always sudden. I don’t know why.

I was surprised every time love started. Or ended.

My blood is colder than theirs, of course, and my life much longer. Handsome boys grow pale and lose their beauty. Their fingers pucker in salt water. Their singing stops, and they yearn for sunlight, green grass, the feeling of air in their lungs.

Suddenly they bore me, and then, with one flick of my silver tail, I’m gone. Off in search of the next handsome boy who strays too close to the water. Off in search of something like love.

Merrill is hosting Prosery at dVersetonight. Our quotation is “I don’t know why I was surprised every time love started or ended” from I wanted to be surprised by Jane Hirshfield. 144 words of flash fiction – prose, not poetry. Whatever next?

I think there might be mermaids – NaPoWriMo 8

There’s a pool here that is always still.

If you look in, you’ll see your face
framed in gold green seaweed.

I’ve been alone down here –
it’s not a busy beach,
the path too steep and stony
to attract too many families;
outside of summer I often
find it empty –

and heard a sound, a call,
that’s not a herring gull,
and not the swirl of water.

Sometimes, I’ve caught
a silver glimmer
from the corner of my eye,
moving swiftly out of sight

and once I saw a shape
that could have been a seal,
but there are no seals here,
not for miles. I checked.

On my shelf at home,
I have a little fishbone comb.
I found it by the mirror pool.

None of this is proof
of anything, of course.

 

 

And let’s all give a sigh of relief, because NaPoWriMo has given us a prompt that doesn’t require too much brain twisting. We are asked to write about the mysterious, the fantastical, the unexplained, and offered a dose of Shelley to  help us on our way.