Siren Story NUMBER 6

by Ksenia Anske

SIREN STORY SURGE continues! You can read about how it started here.

Please welcome our 6th SIREN AUTHOR, Franza Dirnberger, a poet at heart who sometimes dips her toe into writing stories. She is currently obsessed with Dylan Thomas, loves the smell of a new book, is interested in life's difficulties and sometimes starts singing and dancing in the streets for no particular reason.

Photo by Elena Kalis

Siren Story NUMBER 6 by Franza Dirnberger

Harper's cath in virture

Right around the corner of Murphy's Tavern is Harper's spot. His so called home. Night after night he waited for severely drunk sailors to stumble out Murphy's so he could steal small treasures out of their chest pockets. On this very special night Harper's throat soared from droughtness of liquor. Many hours have passed as he laid in the moistly street, waiting for his chance. There was a science to the acquisition of his livelihood. Time, place and the perfect amount of alcohol in blood were crucial for the success of his undertaking, night after night. The sailors who crawled out of the Tavern where either too drunk or not drunk enough. Harper desperately wished for one weak soul to cross his path.

The darkness surrounding him was getting colder, and his bones started to shiver. The holes in his shoes grew bigger with each humid drop.

There, on the verge of unconsciousness he heard a silent call. A strange sensation overcame him, for he had never noticed the yearning melody. Harper got up on puppet strings and dazed towards the pier. The sea seemed to part in front of him. Only illuminated by the pale moonlight a creature of painful beauty emerged from the parting waves. Reddish curls were falling around her opal face and down on the acute drawn shoulders. A skin as thin as pergament with pulsing blooded veins. He wasn't able to look away as her gaze drew him to the waters edge.

A childhood's tale sprung into his mind about the woman of the sea. It was passed on from generation to generation, a secret as old as words and mumble. The sailors songs narrate about their cold watery kiss and what it promises.

"If you spare a kiss for thirsting lips, what you most desire will come true. Grant me an eternity with you in my oceanic realm and i will give your heart satisfaction," the creature softly spoke.

In her most seductive manner the lady from the water promised gold and a warm fire. Harper leaned forward to steal a longing embrace as he felt the fire burning.

He did not see the necklace of turbid pearls around her neck. Fading souls on a string of fish bone.

Suddenly as her appearance she vanished with a smile. Froth collapsing over her.

Harper felt numbness consuming him. Hours fractured into pieces of universal dimension.

As he woke from monumental castles and flavorsome meals he found himself fighting the dreamy dizziness on muddy streets.

A bleary-eyed sailor walked by and out of his pockets were coins falling right in front of Harpers porous boots.

P.S.: This is the 6th Siren Story. If you want to indulge in more sirenness, here is Siren Story NUMBER 1Siren Story NUMBER 2Siren Story NUMBER 3, Siren Story NUMBER 4, and Siren Story NUMBER 5.

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