(This story wormed its way into my head – I’m not writing it, I’m just going where it takes me.)
She was part hermit crab, part clown. It was a mutually exclusive existence, neighbours who saw each other everyday but barely exchanged a terse nod, occasionally a tight, unforgiving smile.
Which was sad, because even though it didn’t appear that way, the crab liked a good laugh every now and then, (it was a sudden soft, short ‘yirp’, a bit like a puppy farting) and would have enjoyed the clown’s sense of humour. And the clown would have liked to lie in the soft, dappled shadows in the swirls of the crab’s conch shell where it was always filled with that sad half-light just before night. And where, even though they were thousands of miles away from it, the sea constantly and softly snored in the background, like a tired, happy old man done with his day’s work….
No comments:
Post a Comment