GONE WITH THE SEA(Francys Wagner) It was a starry and warm summer night. The full moon, like a silver sphere, reflected on the waters, revealing a deep dark blue.
He was walking towards his boat when he found her, sitting on the rocks by the sea.
She was naked and had wounds on her legs.
Instead of fishing he took her to his hut, where he tended her injuries.
In an old trunk, he found a dress from his late mother, and gave it to the stranger to wear.
The next day, word of the apparition spread around the island. The other fishermen and villagers found the way the woman appeared to be suspicious.
She hadn't come by boat, no one had seen her moving around the area before…without clothes and no explanation where she had come from. But it didn't matter to him…
He had been seduced by the beauty of her body and face. Enraptured by the darkness that carried within it the mysteries and charms of the night.
Hypnotised by her melodious voice.
He was hopelessly in love...
Nothing they said would make him see reason...
And so, for a while, he felt like the most fulfilled man in the world. All that mattered in life was her.
She attracted the men's attention as she walked around the island, a cadenced walk like the swinging of the sea, hypnotising them...
He would even feel proud with the brunette and beautiful woman he called "my mermaid”…
He had even imagined a long life at her side. With children just as beautiful as her…
When he would return from the sea, he would rejoice, his heart smiling at the sight of her waiting for him.
But one day when he arrived home in the morning, he could no longer find her.
He had gone fishing with his companions and stayed overnight on the high seas.
At first he thought she was nearby, but when he looked for her and asked the neighbours, no one had seen her...
He thought the worst, for in the wardrobe were still the few clothes he had bought for her. What could have happened? He informed the island police but after a local search, and even in some nearby villages on the mainland, they could not find her....
He wondered what made her disappear without leaving any trace. They had never fought in the few years they had been together.
She had never complained about the modest life he could offer her. In the small hut, with its sparse old and weather-worn furniture, there wasn’t much comfort, only protection from the rain and wind.
She didn't seem to mind this, on the contrary, she had even seemed happy.
He had no idea where else to look for her.
She had no documents and had told him she had no family. That she was alone in the world. Her whole past was a mystery to him.
His days became meaningless, aimless, directionless, disillusioned. He became a sullen man, without the vigour and joy of before…
There was no longer the sound of her voice, when she sang to him on full moon nights, with him on the guitar...
He was no longer in the mood for the daily chores and now only fished for what was strictly necessary to survive or trade for a bottle of whiskey. He lived most of the time drunk, wandering the sands of the beach, dirty, ragged...
The handsome man with his strong, sprightly body, now seemed to have shrunk. The muscles in his arms and legs no longer with the same strength.
He was still young, but his lonely face had become a surface of furrows spread across his forehead and under his puffy eyes. A large, unkempt beard, beginning to have grey strands, ageing before his time...
Someone would say, "Take care man. If you keep this up, and she comes back one day, she won't recognise you. Is that how you want to wait for her?"
Another would say: "Come on mate, it's not worth suffering for anyone”.
At first, he would say that he was waiting for his mermaid to return but after sometime he wouldn’t say anything. Just staring into the space…
At the end of each afternoon, inebriated, he would write crooked verses in the sand with a twig, undecipherable codes, while he babbled his love for her.
In the madness he hoped that she could hear him or read his messages.
At other times, for hours on end he would remain seated on the shore watching the waves breaking over the rocks nearby, while he hummed a melancholic melody…
On full moon nights, you would see him sitting, motionless like a statue in front of his hut, or high up on the cliff looking out at the dark sea, as if she could emerge from the moon's reflection on the waters...
He still clung to a thread of hope that at some point they would meet again....
Rumour had it that he had gone mad. He hardly recognised any more, the people, his neighbours or even his friends.
He lived in a world of his own where no one was allowed to enter... His sad look expressed the pain that tore at his chest...
In his hallucinating moments he saw her coming...
She, emerging from the sea like a mermaid and taking his outstretched hand. And together they would run along the beach...
He would read to her what he had written in the sand and she would smile…
The next morning they would find him, fallen, bare-chested, his trousers torn, wet and dirty with sand, with an empty whisky bottle beside him, fast asleep.
A thick drool dripping from his open mouth, showing he was still alive, by the heavy and noisy breathing...
Thus days and months went by and he was wasting away. He looked like a ghost wandering on the beach or on the quay, scaring the people on the arriving boats...
He ended up becoming a folkloric figure. A taciturn and depressing attraction to watch...
Many of the island's residents avoided going near him...
He ended up falling into oblivion. They didn't care about him anymore...
Until one day, someone missed him.
No one knew how, he just disappeared from the island. They knew he hadn't left by boat. Nobody saw him.
His hut was empty apart from his meagre belongings.
They could not say he had died, for his body was never found.
They believed then that his mermaid had come for him on the night of the full moon, and taken him to live with her in the depths of the sea...

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