A siren from the Atlantic
Chapter 12. The Atlantic Coast and its Caribbean pirates
San Lucas del Pulque, Estado de México, México
There, tied to the various piers and anchored nearby, was a colorful assemblage of small fishing boats. Without hesitation, she led us to a boat painted in white with bright red, and she casually jumped aboard. We scrambled after. She impressed me as she quickly fired up the outboard motor, untied the boat from its docking and steered it nimbly, away from the pier and into the lagoon. Above the roar of the motor and leaning into the breeze, Grandfather proceeded to introduce us.
“Francisca, let me introduce you to this beautiful Atlantic Siren; she sings to the sea, with her heart in her hand, while the wind sighs in gentle gusts, as they waft outward, only to be carried by a nostalgic breeze, longingly blowing in the air! Her name, as mortals know it, is Epifenia,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes. “Epi, this is my granddaughter, Francisca. She is not only the smartest kid in León, but she is also, the loveliest!” He said, laughing.
“Francisca, I feel that I already know you; your grandfather is talking about you all the time!” she told me smiling.
The ride was beautiful, and I on the way, appreciated the lagoon we had seen from the plane. Epi meanwhile, updated Grandfather with recent events in her busy life.
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