Modern Monsters

Jude the Selkie

Female Main Character x Male Monster (both cis)

A few years ago my husband asked for a divorce. It was quite a shock, because we'd been sweethearts in high school and managed to stay together through college. All of a sudden he wasn't happy? I didn't know why, and I offered to try and make it right, but he said in the simplest of terms there was no fixing us. Things had gone on too long, and they should have ended years ago, he said. I thought maybe his mind would change, but instead he found something else. Someone else.

In the divorce, I've been given the beach house his parents left him. I'm not sure why he didn't fight for it, but I figure I can go there to recuperate, and try to finish my book before the deadline and my agent kill me. I don't realize until I arrive why my ex-husband let it go so easily. The place is in such a state of disrepair that I'm not sure I can actually stay in it. The front porch has literally broken off the side of the house and is sinking Titanic-style into the sand. The house itself smells like cat pissk and the floors feel like sand and grit. It's like someone who never bathed came off a shipping boat and rubbed themselves all over every inch of the house.

That evening I sit outside while a dozen scented candles burn inside, and drink a bottle of wine while I sit on the sand before the house. Just the bottle, no glass involved. I have to figure out repairs at some point, but until then I plan to live on that beach like a drunk mermaid.

The sun reflects off the water, transforming the hue of the air to a dusky pink. I notice a man walking along the beach, head down, hands in his pockets. He stops and turns to face the sea, his long hair blowing around his head. He stands there for hours, just watching until the sun goes down. I sit there and just watched him. He eventually walks on once it gets dark, and after a while, I go inside. The candles help, but the smell of cat piss remains. I'll probably have to tear up the carpet or get rid of the furniture.

I can't do anything next morning. I've drunk too much and now I'm paying for it. The smell of the place sends me outside, but the air is too loud out there. I'm cursed with this place and I won't know comfort while I'm here. I sit on the back porch, facing the road, and lean over an old wicker chair that sags with damp. A truck drives by, and for a moment, I think the man inside is the one who was on the beach last night.

That afternoon, once I can take a breath without my head throbbing, I try to figure out what to do about this place. I have money in savings I can use, but I have to consider this place as a money pit. I could sink all my cash into this place and come out with nothing. I only have so much time to finish my next novel, and I couldn't go back home.

I at least call someone to clean the carpets and the furniture. I also wash everything that isn't nailed down, hoping by some miracle I could get rid of that horrible odor. I clear away the old sofa and rattan furniture, setting them onto the curb in the hope they would be gone eventually. I have to take care of the front porch next. It needs to be broken down and a whole new one built. Considering it was built with no foundation, I need to hire someone to pour a cement one. I guess I've decided to throw my money away on this place.

The town is small, mostly people with vacation homes, so at this time of year the population is half what it is during the summer. Most of the shops on the boardwalk are closed for the season, and the only locals that remain are fishermen. I go to a thrift store in hopes of finding furniture, and the front of the shop faces the dock. When I leave, I see the fishermen coming up in their boats, hauling their catches.

I spot that big red truck again, and the man driving seems to stoop over his wheel. He glances at me as he passes, and I watch him. I haven't found any furniture today, but I have managed to get the numbers of some people who can repair my place. I buy new sheets at the local department store, which is a good thirty minutes out of the way. I can't stand the pilling flannel that currently graces the bed. I also get more wine.