Beach

The tide crept in on gnarled fingers. Scabs of foam clotted the shore, raking the sand and creeping up, up, up to whisper under the little girl’s window.

‘Come out and play, pretty child,’ the mermaids sang. ‘We’ll give you a necklace of pearls.’

‘No,’ said the little girl. ‘I must stay in bed like a good child.’

‘The pearls gleam like shark’s teeth,’ the mermaids chanted. ‘Worms crept between the oyster’s lips and anguished its flesh till it wept solid shimmer. We’ll hang its tears around your pretty neck.’

‘You will not,’ said the little girl. ‘After sunset, my mother says I mustn’t go on the beach.’

The tide crept up on sharp fingers. Slashes of spume struck the pebbles, dragging them to drown as the crept up, up, up to whisper under the little girl’s window.

‘Come out and play, pretty child,’ the selkies crooned. ‘We’ll give you a coat of fine gold fat.’

‘No,’ said the little girl. ‘I must stay in bed like a good child.’

‘Cold, cold, cold is the sea and the world,’ the selkies murmured. ‘The fat we mined from beneath a porpoise’s silver skin. Its blood bloomed dark anemones in the water. We’ll wrap its warmth across your pretty back.’

‘You will not,’ said the little girl. ‘After sunset, my father says I mustn’t go on the beach.’

The tide crept up on writhing fingers. Whips of water drove the land down, twining and reeling up, up, up to whisper under the little girl’s window.

‘Come out and play, pretty child,’ the serpents whispered. ‘We’ll hold you in the closet hug you ever knew.’

‘No,’ said the little girl. ‘I must stay in bed like a good child.’

‘Becalmed and alone you lie, precious darling,’ the serpents breathed. ‘Come and take a kiss for how good you have been.’

She knew she had been good yesterday. And she forgot that she must be good today. 

So the little girl opened her window and climbed out. The serpents held her skin to skin, and as their fangs kissed her neck, her blood forgot it had ever needed to be warm. 

The tide creeps up every night. Water swallows the land, and a little girl calls out: ‘Come out and play with me!’

When you hear her calling, my child, close your window and cover your ears. 

After sunset, you mustn’t go on the beach. 

posted by Kit Whitfield  # 6:00 am