05/21/14

THE LITTLE FISH

A PHOTOGRAPHIC FAIRY TALE

Chapter One


Story and Image by Robin Davis

Mermaid Fairytale fairy tale story photo photograph photographic

There once was a sea maiden who lived deep under the waves.  Her life was free but solitary, as there were not so many sea people, or gathering places of beauty as in the ages before. She began to drift into the fringes, well past the long sandy expanses, where beds of sea weeds twisted and moved in swirls of currents, and the waters shallowed. As she moved further into the narrows, the waters grew sweeter and sweeter. Each day she traveled farther, and none of the old ones were there to tell her of the forbidden ends of the sea.

Once at dawn as she rocked and languored in the soft kelps, with bits of phosphorescence glowing in the long streams of her hair, she glimpsed a sight of unusual beauty. Looking upward, she saw little white disks of light falling toward her, then spreading and twirling into fantastic myriads. As this brightness grew, glittering rays trickled down, moving and arching, and as she rose upward the light dazzled her. She became aware of a humming that vibrated above the ebb and flow of the waves. So entranced, she did not realize she had broken through the surface until it was too late.

The first gasp of shock and air ran through her and in the disorienting brightness of boughs of blossoms bending into the stream’s edge, an unbearable sweetness flowed into her nose and she was caught in the most heady perfume. She steadied herself against a large stone and pulled herself up to better marvel at the view. As she sat, the surface of her scales took on an iridescent glow and the winds brushed against her. This clearness soon became less frightening and the rhythms of her breath became even and measured with the sighing of the branches.

Alone she would swim up the stream to revisit this place of air. Here she saw no other sea folk or familiar creatures, and had left the family of dolphin that always followed the tides, far downstream. But as she would sit upon her rock, she would feel the odd sensation of being watched.

Once as she swam she turned to look back and saw three wavering forms behind her in the distance. Each time as she looked over her shoulder they were closer, even as she moved faster. As she sprang onto the big stone, she saw three fish corner in below her.

Each day the three fish would appear, but only one ever spoke…

 


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This project is supported by the CITY OF ATLANTA OFFICE OF CULTURAL AFFAIRS.


Content and Photography ©2014 Robin Davis