FINS. it’s all he can think, all he can see, yet the word thankfully doesn’t come out. john ambrose doesn’t doubt that he looks like a gaping fish watching anaia at the edge of the water, seemingly unaware of his existence. when she said the sea was her home, he should’ve taken that a lot more literally. he assumed she was just really into the beach. a surfer, even. though he should say something to announce his presence, he doesn’t want whatever foolish thing that will topple out of his mouth to interrupt the melody that her voice carries. it’s the kind of voice that could lull even the most disconsolate child to sleep. it could calm turbulent waters, soothe nightmares, part the clouds and let the light pour down from the heavens. it’s angelic and he’s entranced.
lost in her song, the grip on the handle of his bucket loosens. it tumbles out of his hands, shells that he’s spent hours collecting clattering and spilling out onto the sand. mouth still agape, his begins stuttering something out that sounds like an apology while on his hands and knees trying to pick up his found treasures. “ sorry! sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you or creep you out or anything um ––– ” almost as if he’s afraid to offend her, he glances away from her tail, focusing on plunking shells back into the bucket. “ you, uh, so, you have a tail. that’s, uh, something! i’ve seen weirder things. ” oh, good job on trying not to offend her. “ i mean, not that it’s weird! it’s cool! really cool, i’ve never met a mermaid. well, i mean i guess i have, but i, i didn’t know it. god, i’m so sorry. ”
