Trying my hand at Pool, the latest prompt from Laura Feasey’s Literary Lion Writing Prompts.
The Dying Pool
The beauty was gone.
We had thought he was special, my sister and I.
He wove magic with his words by the big fire. The cacophony had quieted for him and his passion had born infant oceans from those who listened.
We had thought he was born of the sea.
He came to us, gazed in and truly saw us.
We thought he was returning to the sea.
He was not magic. He was not of the sea. He thrashed and churned our home with his panic.
We let him float away when he was still.
Word Count: 96