#jo rivera

There was something about standing in the narrow aisle between bookcases that reminded Elistra of being underwater. The dim lighting filtered in through the rows of books like the sun’s warm fingers reaching into the depths of the waves, searching for those creatures that hid from it in the dark. Elistra had been thinking of the ocean a lot, when her mind wandered, much more than she ever had in the previous six years of her residence in Port Vale. How could she not, now, when it seemed that the ocean was coming to her?

At the corner of her vision, Elistra felt, rather than saw, another presence appear at the bookcase parallel to her own. She glanced at the woman, saw her skimming the titles, and then dimly recognized who it was. Something uneasy and tense clenched in Elistra’s gut. She hadn’t seen the woman around until recently, and so far that had only ever meant one thing.

“Hello,” Elistra said quietly, approaching the woman with a reserved smile and a tiny wave. “I don’t mean to disturb you if you’re busy, but I thought I saw you in one of Ms. Wolfgang’s volunteer groups, and I heard you speak up at the town meeting…” And where exactly was she going with this? One of Elistra’s canines dug into the side of her tongue. It wasn’t like she could just come out and ask if the other was a mermaid or a siren. “I’m Elistra, by the way, I work at Beacon Chapel. Sorry I didn’t introduce myself before.”