By Caroline Ashley
Good fishing today.
The flick of a rod, swishing through the air. The line unravelling, a silver thread against the sunlight, slipping under the waves. Dad was the guardian of the shore, standing tall, as the waves crashed upon the sand.
The air smelled of salt, seaweed and sulphur, baking in the summer heat. She raised her head to the breeze, hair whipping against her face.
In her dreams, the world beneath the waves was a kaleidoscope of colour, a land of freedom without boundary, where fish and mermaids and selkies danced among tendrils of kelp and sea grass. Bubbles circled their bodies like pearls, pockets of air that rose to burst on the rolling surface.
She was a lost princess, cursed to live on land, who longed to explore the ocean’s hidden secrets. Her castle was the white cottage sitting atop jagged rocks, facing the sea. To the left, the stone pier was home to the ghosts of families past, their memories imprinted on stone. But her home was the sandy beach, grains embedded in her toes.
The fishing line pulled taught. The rod strained and curved as the fish fought to escape its hook. Dad spun the reel – release a little, then wind back in – slowly tiring his opponent. As the line grew shorter, a fin flashed silver against the waves. Release, then wind. Release, then wind. The fish rose from the water, body flailing, tail whipping back and forth.
What a beauty!
It flapped its fins, scales shining like a rainbow in the light. Dad held the fish aloft and she brushed a finger across its body, smooth and silken. A round eye spun in its socket, searching for the familiar spray of salt, bereft without the pull of the tide. It was trapped on land like she was, the ocean just out of reach.
He’s a big one, Dad said. Bigger than I’ve ever seen. Rare to find them here.
Fishing was Dad’s joy. His lure drawing the shining creatures to the shore, connecting land and sea. He would release them back within moments, a brief greeting before they parted ways once more. But not for this fine specimen of the waves.
Dad took his prize to the Fish Pond, an old aquarium nestled next to the white cottage, where stone walls stood against the waves. His eyes lit with pride and grin held wide, he weighed his catch on their scales and posed for a photo, its body held against his chest.
A man clapped Dad on the shoulder, then carried his prize away in a bucket, its body slicing through the water. The Fish Pond was its home now: it would join the mullet, tarbot and pollock, kept safe and fed, to be admired by those who visited the bay.
Was it sad to lose its freedom? Did it wish it could leap the wall and return to its realm? A brave sea princess would rescue it, take the bucket and bound across the rocks, throw it back into the water. But she was just a girl, caught in her father’s wake.
Dad raised her on his shoulders and they walked back to the beach, the sun warm on their skin. She leaned her head on his, the smell of salt in his hair.
They ate together, watching the waves roll into the shore. How many of the fish’s brethren swam under the waves, just out of reach, still free to dance in open waters? Dad dreamed of meeting them all, luring them into his grasp.
After lunch, he returned to his position at the boundary between land and sea, head held high, pride in his earlier catch still lighting his face. With the flick of a rod, swishing through the air, his search began again.
As the sun meandered across the sky, she left the shore and ventured onto the pier. His distant figure was silhouetted against the light, standing sentinel against the waves. The moment was imprinted on the air itself, held frozen in her memory. He looked towards the pier and waved; she raised her hand in return.
About The Author
Caroline Ashley is a clinical psychologist who works for the NHS in Scotland. She primarily writes fantasy with the occasional foray into sci-fi and horror. Her favourite authors will always be JRR Tolkien and Terry Pratchett but she also has a soft spot for romantasy. If she had any spare time around raising her two young children, she would spend it playing board games.
Caroline Ashley 