The fisherman make eye contact with one of the siren, and it was love.
's happened often. Not with the sirens, with the women. Not with all women, with only a few. Just happened that the eyes were crossed for him was love. He felt a shock that the whole body was trembling, like a thunderbolt. Was filled slowly and gradually, in a short time, a sense that he called love. And love living was soft, sweet and infinitely tender. A priceless feeling he felt every time you make eye contact with a woman. Not with all women, with only a few. He was enough. He did not ask more. He brought into his soft, sweet and infinitely tender love and that was enough. He saw his boat with vibrant colors, she felt intense odors in the air, people seemed nicer, the sky bluer, the sun hotter, and even the direction of the gulls became a unique melody. It lasted a few days, sometimes weeks, and rarely even a month. That's it. Until you cross his gaze again with another special woman.
Now he had crossed the look with a siren and he quickly realized that after she'd never felt love. He knew that the sirens do not belong to the world of men. He knew that the sirens, may not even exist.
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