Clare-Dragonfly (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
clare_dragonfly) wrote2011-09-21 06:57 pm
clare_dragonfly) wrote2011-09-21 06:57 pm
Prosy: A Sea Garden
Title: A Sea Garden
Word count: 390
Rating: PG-13
Prompt:pippin's: Mermaids grow herbs in the corpses of the drowned.
Notes: This mermaid appears to be one of the elder sisters from "The Little Mermaid." More of this story is available to be sponsored!
Ayda was seventeen when the idea first came to her. She and her sisters—all but the youngest—had gone up to the surface, only the five of them with no guards, as was their prerogative now that they were old enough. They could see the surface roiling, the wind and the rain whipping it up, and when they came close enough, the bright flashes of light striking the water. This was their favorite time: the storms on the sea.
She had spent the morning in her garden, as she often did. It had not been as relaxing to her in the past few years as it had previously. Since she had made her first foray to the surface and seen the delights of the land, she had changed her priorities; she no longer wished to grow only things that were beautiful, but also things that were useful. In her heart, her wish was that someday they could trade with those funny people on the land, but even if that were not possible, something about those children in the river had made her want to offer something productive to her community.
So she had decided to grow herbs. She had asked the advice of both her grandmother and the men who tended the kitchen garden, and they had given her advice, but her herbs still did not grow as well as she would wish. That morning she had been surveying the plants; she had experimented with a compost made of seaweed and shark’s cartilage, but it seemed to have made no difference.
She was glad when her sisters had come, telling her there was a storm above. It was a distraction. They sang to the men on the great ships, who never seemed to appreciate it, but she hoped it made their final moments more comfortable. If only the men could come down to the ocean’s bottom and visit with them—but she had learned long ago that was impossible.
When the storm had passed by, Ayda let go of her sisters’ arms and followed one of the men as he made his silent journey down. She was intrigued by the way these men, though they had more in common with mermaids than fish, seemed to rot and be eaten in the same way the fish did when they died.
Did you enjoy this story? You can read more folklore-inspired stories or see all my fiction posted at Dreamwidth!
You can also donate to see more of this story at $1 per 100 or so words.
Word count: 390
Rating: PG-13
Prompt:
pippin's: Mermaids grow herbs in the corpses of the drowned.Notes: This mermaid appears to be one of the elder sisters from "The Little Mermaid." More of this story is available to be sponsored!
Ayda was seventeen when the idea first came to her. She and her sisters—all but the youngest—had gone up to the surface, only the five of them with no guards, as was their prerogative now that they were old enough. They could see the surface roiling, the wind and the rain whipping it up, and when they came close enough, the bright flashes of light striking the water. This was their favorite time: the storms on the sea.
She had spent the morning in her garden, as she often did. It had not been as relaxing to her in the past few years as it had previously. Since she had made her first foray to the surface and seen the delights of the land, she had changed her priorities; she no longer wished to grow only things that were beautiful, but also things that were useful. In her heart, her wish was that someday they could trade with those funny people on the land, but even if that were not possible, something about those children in the river had made her want to offer something productive to her community.
So she had decided to grow herbs. She had asked the advice of both her grandmother and the men who tended the kitchen garden, and they had given her advice, but her herbs still did not grow as well as she would wish. That morning she had been surveying the plants; she had experimented with a compost made of seaweed and shark’s cartilage, but it seemed to have made no difference.
She was glad when her sisters had come, telling her there was a storm above. It was a distraction. They sang to the men on the great ships, who never seemed to appreciate it, but she hoped it made their final moments more comfortable. If only the men could come down to the ocean’s bottom and visit with them—but she had learned long ago that was impossible.
When the storm had passed by, Ayda let go of her sisters’ arms and followed one of the men as he made his silent journey down. She was intrigued by the way these men, though they had more in common with mermaids than fish, seemed to rot and be eaten in the same way the fish did when they died.
Did you enjoy this story? You can read more folklore-inspired stories or see all my fiction posted at Dreamwidth!