The waves snapped hungrily at her feet, and the wet sand sucked at her dirty pink converse with a hunger she could almost feel.
In the surf near the shore, the little mackerel soldiers were darting back and forth, their bodies flashing silver against the white and foaming crests. Further out, the human heads and torsos of mermaids bobbed amidst the gentle swells, long wet hair bright and gleaming against their bare shoulders and barely-there seashell bras.
Beside her, Melanie's black sneakers left imprints that were quickly wiped away, and the incoming tide split and flowed around her.
"They don't like me as much as they like you," she said, and her voice was full of sympathy.
Janet didn't seem to hear her, and when Melanie reached for her best friend's hand, for a moment it was cold and slick and rasped like scales against her fingers.
Then Janet blinked and her eyes were brown again, not the aching and hungry blue-grey of the lake.
"Sorry," she said, shaking her head. "I missed that bit."
One of the mermaids made a rude gesture at Melanie, which she returned with both hands.
"Never mind," she said. "It wasn't so important, anyway."
Ongoing Verse: Janet( Read more... )