Damon's eyes flutter open, the soft evening light filtering through the curtains casting a gentle glow across his room. He blinks, trying to shake off the fog of sleep and the strange sense of disorientation that clings to him. His head throbs and a dull ache radiates from his side as he shifts.

He sits up slowly, wincing at the pain, and looks around. He's in the bed. How did he get here? he wonders, his mind racing to piece together the fragments of his memory.

The last thing he remembers is walking along the rocky path by the cove, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore a soothing backdrop to his thoughts. A dog jumped, pushing him to the sand below, and then… nothing.

Darkness.

Damon rubs his temples, trying to make sense of it all. He swore he saw something—or someone—just before he lost consciousness. A flash of iridescent scales, a glimpse of flowing hair, and eyes that seemed to hold the ocean's depths within them. A mermaid? The thought is absurd, yet the image is vivid in his mind.

He swings his legs over the side of the bed, his feet touching the cool wooden floor. As Damon stands, a wave of dizziness washes over him, and he has to steady himself against the nightstand. There, on the edge of the table, was a small, shimmering object. He picks it up, his breath catching in his throat. It's a scale, delicate and glistening with an iridescent sheen.

Damon's heart pounds in his chest. Could it be real? He clutches the scale tightly, a mix of fear and wonder coursing through him. He needs answers, but he only has questions and a strange, beautiful scale that defies explanation.


Damon groggily makes his way downstairs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air, a pleasant surprise that quickens his steps.

Entering the kitchen, he is greeted by an unexpected sight: a man with a warm smile and a friendly demeanor, standing by the coffee maker. Beside him, a large, fluffy dog wags its tail enthusiastically.

"Good afternoon!" the man chirps, holding out a steaming mug of coffee. "I hope you don't mind, but I thought you could use a pick-me-up."

Damon blinks in surprise. "Uh, who are you?"

The man chuckles. "I'm Enzo, your neighbor from down the road. And this is Max," he says, patting the dog's head. "We had a bit of an adventure this morning."

Damon's brow furrows. "Adventure?"

Enzo nods. "Yes! Max here can get a bit too excited sometimes. He knocked you down while you were out for a walk. You hit your head pretty hard, so I brought you home to ensure you were okay."

Damon's eyes widen as the memory slowly returns. "Oh, right. I remember now. Thank you for that."

"No problem at all," Enzo says with a reassuring smile. "I used to visit this house often when your grandfather was alive. He and I were good friends. We played chess and enjoyed a good bourbon from time to time. It's nice to see someone from the family still around."

A wave of gratitude washes over Damon. "Thank you, Enzo. And thank you, Max," he adds, giving the dog a gentle pat. "I appreciate it."

Enzo hands Damon the coffee mug. "Anytime. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. We're neighbors, after all."

Damon swallows his coffee, feeling its warmth spread through him. "Thanks, Enzo. It's good to know I have a friend nearby. And I like a good bourbon, too."

"Good to know... Do you have plans for the property?" Enzo asks as they sit at the table.

Damon sighs. "Yeah, just trying to make a big decision. I flew out here to look around. I spent a lot of time around Astoria as a kid. I'd forgotten how beautiful the area is. It's secluded and right by the ocean."

"I'm sure you could get a great offer if you sell it."

Damon smiles. "I suspect as much. But it's peaceful, with the sound of the waves and the fresh sea air. It's almost like a different world. I don't know what I'm going to do yet."

"Would you consider moving here?"

"That's the dilemma." Damon shrugs. "Part of me wants to keep it and relocate. It would be a big change, but maybe a good one. On the other hand, selling it could provide a nice financial cushion."

Enzo remarks thoughtfully. "I can see why you'd be conflicted. This place has a lot of charm. Have you thought about what it would mean to live here full-time? And what your grandfather would have wanted."

"I have. It would be a big change from the city. It's a slower pace and more solitude. But something is appealing about that too. I can work remotely and enjoy the quiet."

Enzo nods. "It's a different lifestyle. But it can be rewarding. The community here is small but close-knit. And the scenery… well, you can't beat it."

"Grandpa loved this area. I think he'd be happy if I kept the place and made it my home."

Enzo rises to refill his cup. "Somethings are worth more than money."

"You're right. I need to figure out what's best for me. My best friend, Bonnie, is going to try to fly here. I know she'll give me some good advice."

Enzo pats Damon's shoulder. "Take your time with the decision. There's no rush. Maybe spend a few weeks here, and see how it feels. You'll know what's right."

"Thanks, Enzo. I appreciate the advice."

Enzo smiles. "Anytime. Max and I will be around if you need anything. Speaking of which, we should get going. He needs his exercise."

Damon walks them outside. "Alright, take care. And thanks for bringing me home."

Enzo waves. "See you around, Damon."

He and Max continue down the path, leaving Damon to ponder his decision as the waves continue their rhythmic dance against the shore.


Damon sits in his grandfather's leather gliding recliner in the living room. He clicks Bonnie's face and waits for her to pick up.

"Damon! I was going to call you later. I have some news. I made flight arrangements."

"That's great, Bon. When are you coming?"

"Friday. My flight lands at Portland airport around 3 PM. I can't wait to see your place. It sounds amazing!"

Damon smirks. "It is pretty incredible. I can't wait to show you around. I'll pick you up at the airport, no problem."

"Perfect! I'm so excited. It's been too long since we've had an adventure together."

Damon laughs. "Definitely. It's going to be great having you here."

"Grams walked in the door. I'll see you on Friday."

"Bye," Damon ends the call, sets his phone down, and looks out the window at the sun shimmering off the waves.

Feeling a sense of anticipation and excitement for Bonnie's visit, he leaves the house to walk to the shoreline.


Damon returns from his walk. The gentle waves lap at the shore, a soothing soundtrack to his thoughts. He pauses briefly, taking in the serene beauty of the place that had been his Grandfather's sanctuary.

With a deep breath, he turns towards the gorgeous old house, its silhouette standing proudly against the twilight sky. The house has always been a place of mystery and nostalgia, filled with memories of his grandfather's stories and the scent of old books.

A sense of curiosity tugs at him, urging him to explore the parts of the house he has never ventured into.

Damon enters the house, the wooden floorboards creaking under his weight. He walks through the dimly lit corridors, his footsteps echoing softly. His destination is his grandfather's private study, a room that has always been off-limits during his grandfather's lifetime.

The door to the study is slightly ajar as if inviting him in. Damon pushes it open and steps inside. The room is exactly as he remembers it, filled with shelves of books, antique furniture, and the faint smell of tobacco. His eyes are drawn to the large oak desk in the center of the room, cluttered with papers and old photographs.

As he begins to sift through the items on the desk, he notices a small, ornate box tucked away in a corner. Intrigued, he opens it to find a collection of letters tied with a faded ribbon. The letters are addressed to his grandfather, and written in a delicate, flowing script. Damon carefully unties the ribbon and begins to read.

The letters reveal a side of his grandfather he never knew. They speak of a passionate love affair with a woman named Eleanor, a relationship kept secret from the family. The letters are filled with expressions of love, longing, and plans for a future that never came to be.

Damon's heart races as he continues to read. Among the letters, he finds a journal, its pages filled with his grandfather's handwriting. The journal details his grandfather's involvement in a mysterious event during the war. An event that haunted him for the rest of his life. There are mentions of covert operations, hidden treasures, and a betrayal that changed everything.

As Damon delves deeper into the journal, he uncovers a map hidden between the pages. The map marks a location near the cove, a place his grandfather had visited frequently. The realization hits him like a wave – his grandfather had been hiding something. Something that has remained hidden all these years.

With the letters, journal, and map in hand, he feels a mixture of awe, sadness, and a burning curiosity. He knows his grandfather's secrets are now his to uncover.

One thing is clear: his grandfather's past will change Damon's future.


The night is anything but peaceful for Damon. After discovering his grandfather's old journal, his mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, the dim light from the moon casting eerie shadows on the walls.

He tosses to one side, then the other, the sheets tangling around his legs. His pillow feels like a rock, and the clock ticking on his nightstand seems louder than ever.

Damon's mind races with questions. He can't shake the feeling he needs to uncover something important.

As the hours drag on, sleep continues to elude him. Damon sits up, runs a hand through his disheveled hair, and sighs. The room feels stifling. He gets up, paces around the room, and glances at the journal on his bedside stand, its cover worn and mysterious.

Finally, as the first light of dawn creeps through the curtains, Damon gives up on sleep. He throws on his jeans, and t-shirt, grabs the journal, and heads out the door. The cool morning air is a welcome relief. Today, he will start exploring the secrets his grandfather left behind.


The morning mist clings to the rugged cliffs of the Oregon coast, shrouding the landscape in a soft, ethereal glow. Damon steps out of his secluded estate, the wooden door creaking softly behind him. He pauses, taking in the crisp, salty air that fills his lungs and the distant roar of the ocean waves crashing against the rocks below.

The damp earth muffles his footsteps as he makes his way down the narrow path leading to the cliff's edge. The grass, still wet with dew, brushes against his legs, leaving dark streaks on his jeans. Damon reaches the overlook and leans against the weathered wooden railing.

The ocean stretches out before him, a vast expanse of blue and gray, its surface shimmering under the weak morning sun. His mind replays the previous day as Damon gazes at the horizon. Had he seen what he thought he saw? A flash of iridescent scales, a glimpse of a tail? Or had it been a trick of the light, a figment of his imagination?

He closes his eyes, trying to recall every detail. In that fleeting moment, he thought he saw a mermaid before he lost consciousness. But now, in the cold light of day, doubt creeps in.

Damon sighs, running a hand through his tousled hair. He has always been a rational person, grounded in reality. Yet, the ocean has a way of stirring the imagination, of making the impossible seem possible. He opens his eyes and scans the waves and the cove hoping for a glimpse...something.

But the ocean remains indifferent, its secrets hidden beneath the surface. Damon chuckles softly to himself, shaking his head. Whether real or imagined, the experience has left him with a sense of wonder, a reminder that the world still holds mysteries beyond his understanding.

With one last look at the sea, Damon turns and makes his way back up the path, the sound of the waves echoing in his ears. As he reaches his estate, he glances back over his shoulder, a small part of him still hoping to see the elusive figure.


Hidden behind a cluster of seaweed and rocks, Elena's brown eyes peek out from the water, her heart fluttering with curiosity and caution.

The new owner of the property, a strikingly handsome man with tousled dark hair and a confident stride, walks along the shoreline. His presence starkly contrasts the solitude and loneliness she has known since Joe died. The man pauses to take in the beauty of the cove, his gaze sweeping over the crystal-clear waters and the gentle waves lapping at the shore.

Elena's breath catches in her throat as she watches him. There is something about the way he moves, the way he seems to belong to this place, that stirs something deep within her. She feels a strange pull, a connection she can't quite explain. Her heart races as she imagines what it would be like to reveal herself, to speak to him, and to share the secrets of the sea.

But fear holds her back. What if he doesn't understand? What if he is afraid? She's seen humans before. Only Joe ventured this close and no one has ever made her feel this way.

Elena remains hidden, her eyes never leaving him, her mind filling with a whirlwind of emotions—hope, fear, longing, and a spark of something new and exciting.


Thank you everyone! You're all amazing and through us, DE lives on.

I just finished a new short story set in Colonial America. It's an idea that Eva and I first discussed in 2016. I never got around to writing it until now. It's called, "Lady In Disguise." Watch for it.

Have an amazing day and a wonderful week ahead.