The Mermaid’s Treasure
My grandmother’s old blue bicycle clattered loudly on the uneven dirt road. I wasn’t in any hurry to get to Vera’s, since she never wore a watch, and the dusty, wooden clock in her kitchen ticked loudly for another time zone. I reached my pink-tipped fingers out to grab another raspberry from the bushes as I trundled along. If I’d thought to bring an old ice-cream tub, I could have picked it full without getting off my bike. I popped the berry into my mouth and hummed a few broken lines from a tune that I only half-knew… something about the sea. The road turned, and the...
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