Turtles sang his songs of longing; little fishes cried his tears.
He ached for a queen, for a lover to share his lake of emerald-green delight. But water nymphs oft live out their lives alone. So faded the gem-stone.
One day, as he swam his kingdom’s perimeters, his heart thud-lumped – could it be? Was this his dappled-dream?
She did not flee when she saw him, only modestly bowed her head. Her dress was the colours of deepest sunsets on the water turning to darkest night. Her hair sun-sharded gold. The entwined pearls like stars on the dark surface of the waters.
And thus they courted; she stayed firm by his side through angry storms when waves rolled the lake creatures and the contours of her dress. She held tight to her handkerchief and his heart. Came the ritual exchange of gifts – he place a string of tiny spiral shells around her beautiful neck and he caught her handkerchief as she let it flutter on the current towards him.
He had true found his love, his mistress. She bent her head to receive her crown, her lover’s tiara of water lotus and lily pad. And his skin glowed and his dark hair flowed loose with the currents. Alone no more.
When the little fishes nibbled at her toes, you could scarce see the rock and rope chafe scar once angry red, now watery white, ‘round her delicate ankle, anchoring their love forever.
A few words for Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction Challenge 19: under the sea.
© my frilly freudian slip