Impressed by its tenacity, I watched
as murky waves lapped repeatedly up and over its rough orange skin. Imagining it to be the brightly-colored, yet
impassive female, next to the striking purple male, I wondered if it smelled
the salty, sun baked rot of seaweed permeating my nostrils. Did its belly gurgle as mine did now - gastric
juices flowing in anticipation of shellfish for dinner? Would its arms mimic my greedy, butter soaked
fingers as they pried open fresh crustaceans full of tangy nectar? Would it gorge itself, as I regularly do, then
sit back and allow the day to wash over it, with indifference? -DT
Posts
