I understand now why seamen used to believe in mermaids, maybe still do. I stood on the shore of a choppy south China Sea and I understood. As the fading sun slipped in an around the waves I could swear I saw heads poking out of the water in curiosity. Impossible. But the endless expansion of busy sea, the slight of eye, the mistake of subconscious could make a person believe anything. A bright pink sarong fluttered around my legs, the wind was buttery against my skin, the sand that stuck wetly to my feet had been warm when I had stepped in it. It stretched for miles on either side of me, towards gentle sloping hills to my right and nestling bright colored fishing boats to my left. I could have been told at that
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