Starlit shores of Mellow Memories

The Starlit Shores of Mellow Memories

 The ocean has the best emotions.

The sunlight poured through the light draped curtains and filled the antique room, some places still covered in light blankets of dust. Nereida’s eyes fluttered open. Dark and beautiful, deep set orbs that shone like a golden rose in a brilliant sunset. She gazed at the ocean, her eyes following its natural curves and mystic rhythm; a song no one could replicate. A boundless hypnotic cover that mirrored the morning sun. Her faded blue curtains danced with the pleasant breeze and her papers soon joined in, swirling with the wind and creating patterns in her lonely room. Nereida wished she could sleep more but for some reason she found herself beginning to write in her book. Filled with thousands of sketches, untold stories and lovely words woven from her own heart strings, the book itself was art.

‘When the waves crashed at the sea rocks, my thoughts were…nostalgic’ she wrote in her curly handwriting like the locks of a pretty princess far away. Nostalgic. Yes, it was. For the waves reminded her of her dearest friend. A friend no one believed existed.

Years ago, when she wasn’t so old and wrinkly. When the stars sang lullabies to weeping children and when the sun shone down with its untold riches, Nereida would run across the shimmering beach with sea shells by her feet. The ocean would try to catch her, tickling her pink rosy heels. She would collect the sand and let it run through her fingers, waiting for her dearest friend to come to shore. As the sun set behind the feathery clouds, she would see her emerge from the cosmic duvet of sparkling waters. Her glossy eyes closed and her dark hair tangled in her glimmering robe. She was tall. Incredibly tall. Taller than Nereida’s father, but she was kind. A gentle giant that had never had a friend in decades.

“Did you wait for long, Nereida?” she would ask. Nereida’s face would go red “Don’t call me that, Myra!” she would yell back “I don’t like my name, it sounds horrible” she would sniffle. Myra’s eyes would go soft like a mother’s. “It’s a beautiful name, darling” she would say in that hushed calming voice “You’re name comes from the ocean, its starry waves caressed your skin. How could you hate a name like that? Your name is peaceful and calm, yet so strong and endless. You’re name means sea nymph, darling. Don’t hate it for it is majestic, just like the sea” Nereida smiled. Her name was like the sea, like the tempestuous, massive turquoises that lightly brushed her heels.

 Their fights wouldn’t last long for they loved each other too dearly to hold grudges. They would play in the moonlit sand and swim with the fishes in the sea, each one a different alluring shade. Myra would make little models with the water and form ice dolls that would swim through the long wavy tresses of iridescent sea water. They would have so much fun, sometimes it would last ages. But Myra had to go before the sun came up for her people would be waiting for her to come home. But one day, she never came back…

‘When the waves crashed at the sea rocks, my thoughts were…nostalgic. I was reminded of her. Her pretty glossy eyes, like tinted glass; a wild bewitching mosaic. No one knew her and no one believed my words for a child shall imagine till time ceases to tick. But her locks of tangled hair, I shall see in my dreams forevermore. Her flowy robe shall remind me of all the celestial stars above and her endearing face shall remind me that kindness still prevails. Her hushed voice still echoes through these drafty rooms. Oh, my Myra, why did you leave me like that? Why didn’t you come back? You taught me about the ocean. How it loved the most. How it cried the most. How it was the happiest. Yet you left me stranded. You were the ocean in my eyes, yet why did you leave? Without a word, without a say?’ Nereida closed the pages of her book. Its smell of old crinkly papers, oh, how old it was. Myra lived on in her heart and in her mind. She never died. Or at least that was what she convinced herself.

The Laurens had moved next to Nereida’s little house. They had a little girl and she came running into Nereida’s hands the moment she stepped out of the door. She squealed like she was excited but why was she so excited to see a poor old granny? The little girl’s eyes were glossy like the sea, beautiful and cryptic. She seemed familiar, so familiar yet so distant. “Darling, why are you so excited?” Nereida asked. “To see you again!” she would say. “But why?” Nereida would question “The Ocean has the best emotions and it remembers everything and everyone. Like sea foam it will come back and like waves it will always return. The sounds of the sea shall never be drowned for it will always follow the ones it loves” the little girl said. Nereida’s eyes grew wide, her wrinkles stretching and a small smile forming on her face. “You name, child?” she asked. “It’s Myra. Myra Lauren.”