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“How many times, since she was just a child, had her and Mum hung clothes together here as Mum told her stories? Some real, some pretend, some Helen couldn’t quite tell the difference between. For decades Mum insisted that as a child a true mermaid had been her friend. The mergirl had gotten injured by a fallen rock near Mum’s home, and she claimed to have helped the creature back to health. When Helen was small she accepted the tale as truth, but when she grew and dropped her belief in other fairy tales Mum would insist this was different. “Her tail felt smooth when I would slide my fingers down it, but the scales were sharp if I slid my palm up. I don’t have to pretend it’s true or convince you. I held magic in my hands. It wasn’t the first time, but it was the first time I realized I had.” “But there’s no such thing as mermaids and magic,” Helen had refuted once. Mum had lowered herself to meet Helen’s eyes. “Oh, there’s magic in this world. Do you think that just because you can explain something that makes it not magic anymore? How a wildflower grows is magic. The first snow of winter? Absolutely. Stand on any theater’s stage and you can’t deny it’s there. Sit on any shore and you’ll always feel it.” — Corinne Beenfield