Is it your turn

She looked at the painting on the wall. It also came on greeting cards. She hesitated. It was not her usual taste. Better to buy the small version, incase her taste changed by the delivery date.

Her eyes locked on the eyes of the mermaid in the painting, She felt drawn to it. A young man approached her. " The mermaid looks like you. The same dark hair and mesmerizing eyes. You are both very pretty." She thanked him. Trying to take her focus off of the painting. She wondered about the cost, but asked the salesperson about the artist instead. The artist- Martin Phoenix lived in Florida. His house was surrounded by seashells and sea.

Two times a year on the solstice he would open his house to the locals, and sell his artwork. His agent had brought the painting and card here last July. Nobody ever saw him, put there was always more artwork when the people arrived.

She asked the price of the original. The sales person smiled. " It needs to go to the right person. The person who it was painted for. It might be you. The way your eyes are following it. It might bring you magic,"

The salesperson's answer threw her. What magic can a person bring you and only you? But then wasn't that the point of art? To attach the art to the person viewing it.

She tried her question again, rephrasing it. The salesperson this time said, "Make a offer. Tell the artist what you have to offer. Will the painting hang in a deserted guest room? Will you see the painting daily? Will the mermaid be your friend, or just a image on the wall?"

The shopper was now feeling stress. You bought art to hang on your wall, not to marry. The salesperson noticed the young girls frustration,and gave her a free seashell. "Come back tomorrow and we will have an answer".

The customer relaxed when she saw the seashell. It was large, and sung when she held it up to her ear.

That night she placed it with the other seashells, next to her bed. All night she heard the sea as she slept. She saw herself swimming under the waves in the sea.

The next morning she was awoken by the doorbell. There at the door was the Mermaid painting. She checked for the bill. No charge. She hung the mermaid on the wall, across from her bed. It looked to her as if it belonged. She wondered if the strange man had bought it for her. The one who felt she looked like the mermaid. She called the shop. Their phone had been disconnected. When she went to the location, the shop had be closed up. It had been empty since June.

She went back to her house confused. The law of her life was logic. Her law was shattering.

That night in her dreams, she swam with the mermaid. The water in her dreams, turquoise and clear, like in the painting, She swore she could actually feel the cool water cruising over her body,

This happened for about a year and than her nightly swims ceased. The seashell stopped singing its tune of the sea. She wondered if she had angered the mermaid. She thought maybe she had used up her need of the painting. She donated it to a local thrift store. She visited the store a month later. The painting had been purchased a week before. It was weird the buyer looked like a younger version of her.

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