Summer Benowitz

In a flashback, a woman is accused of over-narrativizing her life and makes that accusation into a narrative.

THERE ARE MERMAIDS IN LA follows Cassie. Bored of her relationship. Having mediocre orgasms. Trying desperately to reupholster a lamp because why not? “It might be the first step towards sewing patchy jeans or something.” But one day Cassie’s boat is rocked by a mysterious silent visitor. A woman. With long, fire-engine red hair and almost no discernible personality or clothes. We’ll call her Mermaid. Because, as the legend goes, she made a bad trade somewhere down the line, swapped her voice out for legs, and then wound up in the wrong place. The place being this woman's beach... RIP the prince. As Mermaid makes herself comfortable in Cassie’s home, the two women begin to form an unlikely bond. The game is simple: Cassie talks and Mermaid listens. Until they both get sick of it.

In a flashback, a woman is accused of over-narrativizing her life and makes that accusation into a narrative.

In a flashback, a woman is accused of over-narrativizing her life and makes that accusation into a narrative.

In a flashback, a woman is accused of over-narrativizing her life and makes that accusation into a narrative.

THERE ARE MERMAIDS IN LA follows Cassie. Bored of her relationship. Having mediocre orgasms. Trying desperately to reupholster a lamp because why not? “It might be the first step towards sewing patchy jeans or something.” But one day Cassie’s boat is rocked by a mysterious silent visitor. A woman. With long, fire-engine red hair and almost no discernible personality or clothes. We’ll call her Mermaid. Because, as the legend goes, she made a bad trade somewhere down the line, swapped her voice out for legs, and then wound up in the wrong place. The place being this woman's beach... RIP the prince. As Mermaid makes herself comfortable in Cassie’s home, the two women begin to form an unlikely bond. The game is simple: Cassie talks and Mermaid listens. Until they both get sick of it.