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Short story: <i>Searching</i>

When the wind blows at night, sweeping the rocks and gently directing the salty spray of the sea, I can't sleep.

The moon shines roughly down, jostling me awake, pushing me, carrying me, into the wind, up to the cliffs, to lay on the rocks and feel the ocean pulse underneath me.

There is some longing, erotic tension, a sense of flirtation and play between the earth and the sea and the sky, and I spread my hair out on the rock, relax my neck, and sing, a feckless soul slipping into the universe, waiting for a prospective lover to drown in my love.

But no matter how I siren, nobody comes.

I sigh, and roll myself mournfully into the cold sea.

Who ever heard of a fat mermaid?

This is the result of a fifteen minute writing exercise. The only constrictions were the time limit and five randomly selected words from the dictionary. Today the words were: fat, lay, feckless, soul, and siren.

Image courtesy of artolog.

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