Sirens have been beings of legend since the start of human civilization, perhaps forever. Originally, their whispers inspired knowledge and kindness, spoke of good, hid the bad. Then, over time, they turned away from conquering hero. They kept him at bay with their bewitching songs. It will not be said that these mythical women did not try to guide man towards wisdom, but they gave up very soon.

Where are they, those who considered themselves equals to kings but without the desire to harm, those who were the rivals of sailors but without ambition, those who seduced men but with no desire other than their drowning? Where are they now ? 

The ocean must taste too foul and stink too much for such delicate beings to not have washed ashore. I believe them to be disoriented, these dominatrixes of the ancient seas. I fear that the rumblings of our barbaric armies, the enthusiastic roars of the males of our species singing at the top of their lungs the same hypnotic refrains, drown out their melodious warnings. 

War, like a succession of tsunamis whose epicenter is lost in the dark ocean of the human heart, results in ten times more corpses each century than the last. For the sirens, perhaps, this century will be their last, heralding a long period of peace during which they will have no one to tease.

It is said that in 2024, solitary walkers on almost deserted beaches have encountered naked young women, their bodies tattooed with strange runes, wandering aimlessly, disappearing and reappearing, whispering absurd words to the waves.

__Milena Carbone