She couldn't help but feel that the mermaid would speak to her if she stared at it long enough.
It's mouth would move and it's story would spill out, "I am from the shore that washes against the outer bank islands."
Violet just kept holding it's fragile beauty in her hands. Such a fantastic find, dusty and hidden in the entangled fisherman's net on the shelf of the long deserted shed. She knew doing a little digging there would unearth something wonderful for her to take back home from her visit to the Atlantic shore towns of Virginia.
She posed the mermaid and took a picture to send to Em. Their vintage shop in St. Lorraine was quite eclectic and although near the Pacific ocean in Northern California, mermaids didn't show up often. On the east coast, in particular, south out of Chesapeake Bay she had seen them everywhere. The town of Norfolk even had a map you could find online to tour the city's many mermaids.
Her phone pinged letting her know that Em was responding to the photo.
"Where did you find that gorgeous statue and could there be more?"
Violet hadn't even been thinking of mermaids when she first arrived for her annual visit to see what early American finds she could bring home to August Moon. Tourist in her neck of the woods mainly wanted something vintage to do with the old stage stop days or anything depicting the local wine industry.
Violet once again took the mermaid into her hands and thought "wonder what the story is behind this?"
Her eyes fluttered as within her head an unfamiliar voice began, "I am from..."
Violet shut her eyes and let the vibration she could feel from the mermaid flow into her body.
Briefly she thought "Em, if you could only be here right now."
Then she felt slowly pulled to some shoreline. She could see, hear and smell the ocean. Was she the mermaid? At other times she had been able to intuit or whatever words describe it, pulled into the piece itself. She would know and somehow visualize the story behind the item. She was feeling that now. Sitting on rough sand, gulls overhead. Salt air blowing against her. Wow, then as quickly she was back in the chair seated before the tiny stove of the cottage where she was staying.
"Time for a drive, "thought Violet.
The mermaid caused her to want to feel the real ocean breeze. Tonight was her last night so she should do a little meditation since there wouldn't be another visit to Virginia again for awhile. And who knows, maybe a real mermaid would stop by and regale her with a story or two of beautiful beaches of sunrises and sunsets all across the globe. Violet walked towards the calm lapping water. She took deep breaths, felt the sand underfoot and listened to the waves.
The cottage creaked and moaned with the wind.
The mermaid stretched her arms, folded and unfolded her tail. She had a long trip ahead of her and there were only folktales from other sea creatures of what the Pacific ocean was like. The key turned in the lock, Violet took her suitcase off the floor and began packing the statue for the flight home to St. Lorraine.
