Sea Foam, Death, Or Possibly Jail
Drunk, Ariel plops on the shore in her wedding dress, her empty vodka bottle falling onto the sand beside her. A wave comes and claims the discarded bottle, drenching her in the process. The water darkens her dress, staining the white as a more brackish color. She doesn’t seem to care, instead focusing her attention to the bright mansion of the cliff above her. The sound of laughter falls from above, spring boarding along the coast and into her ears. She cries.
“Stop that, little sister.” A head bounces out at sea. Ariel can see the orange of the mermaid’s fins in the moonlight.
“He’s not worth it.” Another head appears, a bright flash of blue. Other colors begin to swirl around the two heads, red and purples and gold. Six sisters smile at Ariel, and even in her despair, she can’t help smiling back at them.
“I’ve missed you all,” she sobs. “Coming here was a mistake. I want to go home.”