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Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.
Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.
Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.
Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.
The crisp smell of saltwater in the air was 1. welcomingly inhaled deeply with a content sigh of a young woman just about the age of seventeen. The crash of ocean waves up against the 2. harbor’s dock lightly floated with the wind coming from the sea. Constant chatter and yelling in different languages rose up from the arriving ships and 3. barges which came for the market the next day.
Once, a few years ago, the local fishermen had picked a decently shallow area near the village to do some idle fishing. The ocean life had been moreover plentiful in those times so an array of creatures, edible or not, were caught in fine amounts. After several hours of casting and pulling nets from the sea, and the sun setting faster, the fishermen’s presumably last catch of the day proved to contain a bit of struggle.
With much effort and salty sweat, along with silvery fish was a seaweed-strewn teenage girl. The fishermen griped with deckhands about the matter for months on and maybe a whole year. The matter became twisted and misconstrued from a girl with no voice being captured to a mermaid being snatched up while lost on her way home. From that time on, no one caught notice of the young girl who still swam near the fishermen’s boats.
The young woman, older now, rose to her feet with some difficulty. Hobbling the slightest bit, her right leg always hindered her in some way, even the most minuscule; hurting it as a young child from landing on a rusty nail while running too fast on the old docks. Yet, she sunk her toes deeply in the warm sand to the point where she met the wet and cold underneath.
“Time to swim, again,” she said to herself, watching the sun carefully as it hid behind the golden horizon.
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