Oceane — Dreams !!link!!

The Mer-Mother smiled, and the smile was a trench opening. “Before you were born, you were a current. Before that, a storm surge. Before that, the first raindrop that fell on primordial earth and ran downhill, laughing, toward the sea. You are not land’s daughter. You are salt’s memory wearing a girl’s shape.”

Océane took the jar. The water inside was gray and ordinary. But when she pressed it to her ear, she heard the Mer-Mother’s voice, soft as a shell’s spiral: oceane dreams

“You’ve been dreaming of her again,” her grandmother said one breakfast, not looking up from her tea. The Mer-Mother smiled, and the smile was a trench opening

“I’ve never been in the ocean,” Océane whispered. The Mer-Mother smiled

“If I come to you,” she said slowly, “what happens to the girl?”