washed up

I set this page up by pouring a cup of coffee over it. I have a dread fear of the blank white sheet of paper. But if I spill something on it, it's not blank anymore and I don't have to feel so intimidated.

The fins on the mermaid presented themselves immediately.

















She feels so alone.






















She washed up on the surf by herself. She didn't mean to. (The tides can carry you to the most unexpected places.)