By James McEwan
At the outset there were three of us and then others came, drawn by an overwhelming curiosity to watch and listen. She was naked beneath her scarlet hair where she sat on a rock being washed by the tide. We remained hypnotised by the echo of her melody lingering in the mist long after she had flipped her tail and dived.
Bio: James McEwan writes and publishes short stories. Presently he is mustering the courage and stamina to complete a novel.