Waterfall Nymph

The water nymph reclined upon a moss-draped stone, her form half-draped in the shimmering veil of the waterfall’s mist. Filtered light caught in the dark strands of her black hair, cascading like rivulets over the rocks, glistening with the kiss of the water’s spray. Her skin, luminous as pearl, bore the faint glow of the sky above, while her eyes, deep as the abyss where secrets slumber, shimmered with a quiet mischief. The river sang as it tumbled over the rocks, a lullaby of time woven into its endless dance. She trailed one hand idly through the water, where ripples danced upon the surface like restless spirits. A sigh, as soft as the whisper of the wind through reeds, left her lips—perhaps the memory of a love lost in the tides of eternity, or merely the contentment of a creature who has never known the weight of time. The nymph was neither mortal nor bound—only a fleeting vision of beauty, belonging to no one, lingering only for as long as the river chose to carry her song.