Sue Vincent has provided a most interesting photograph this week and it has inspired me to write a short story called The Siren Witch. This is the beginning.
The woman, who stood alongside the isolated dock, was not beautiful. Her nose was slightly too hooked, her body marginally too large-boned and her dark eyes fractionally too almond shaped to meet the traditional requirements of beauty. Her long and curling dark hair, overly ample bosom and pouting mouth gave a suggestion of wanton sexuality to her still figure, which rose up out of the mist like the proud prow of a ship. Her powerful voice floated across the water as she sang of love found and lost.
“Oi, look at that,” said Richard, pointing in the direction of the shadowy figure. The distance between their small fishing vessel, in the middle of the delta, and the shape on the shore was…
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