Sea runes
#inspiration
The tide had carved the runes of her ancestors into the rocks on the shore. She found them on her long walks. They were crude, swirling symbols and spelled out a story of a long lost land beneath the waves. Of a land both moss and sea, both pure and touched by darkness. Her mother had always told her made up stories of the lands of her father. They were stories of cities made from sea glass, gowns grown from mother of pearl and deep seaweed forests swaying in the tide. Her mother could have never glimpsed these sights, but Aruba was sure she had seen them in the eyes of her maker. She herself had seen something out of the corner of her eyes, when she dove beneath the waves. Organic shapes, and a glitter like silver. She had made out patterns in the nighttime glow of the sea and saw feverish illusions in the tide ponds at dawn. Sometimes she had thought herself losing her mind.