this is the tale of the water nymph when I was a young girl aged nine this a little tale my beloved grandmother on my mother’s side paid us a surprise visit after a delicious dinner of stories an mash my favourite I was sent tea bed giggling there was a little nymph in the story I corrie doon as my Granny tucks me in pointing towards my big book of faery tales she was called Bethany I put my hands together in pretend to prayer in hopes she’ll read me a story this is my tenth story on the list making a big thing of considering Granny cups her chin in her hand and looking at the ceiling she pretends tea think about it the water was very deep trying tea hold in my laughter an spluttering I chuckle a little fairy was leaning close an lowering her voice Grandmother whispers that she has a secret tale tea tell me she was called Tia My Granny always told the best stories so wanting tea hear what she has tea say the wish was granted by my grandmother my ear prick up an agog at the thought of being told a secret tale I sit up quickly readying myself the tale was a beautiful one smiling Granny gives me a squeeze and as she always does the light was very beautiful she tells she loves me than life itself patting and pulling at my pillows she arrange them behind my back tea make sure I’m comfortable it was the middle of the story that I love you tea Granny I cry excitement mounting I try my best tea hold doon the giggles fluttering around my belly smoothing doon my bed cover with my hands I slide my fingers together intake a basket and sit them on my lap tea show I’m ready tea hear the secret tale the waves eyeing the door Grandmother listens for a moment and grinning she asks well are you ready for the tale of the water nymph my darling? the sky was blue wondering what a water nymph looks like I’m just about to ask but it seems has the gift as she’s able to read my thoughts the golden sun was very hot last summer her blue eyes glaze over and talking to a spot on the wall she says the water nymph was a spirit or sprite the people of the Harnish glen said her name was Naomi she was rumoured tea have magical powers and it was believed she lived on the wee mist covered island in the centre of loch Harnish turning to look at me again she smiles and in explanation she adds Loch Harnish was in the middle of my Haem in the village of Hornitos a faraway look in her eyes once more her smiling slipping she sighs the wind was very loud supposing she’s thinking fondly of her childhood Haem I wait as patiently as I can for her to continue itchy feet moving back and forth beneath the covers