The lobster tank is sparsely populated. It is unlikely that any of them will make it through the night. One of the lobsters scuttles across the tank and attacks another. I wonder what brought this on. Has it been simmering since their ocean days? Is it rage against the dying of the light? First I think: Is this the decision you want to be making right now? But watching them, as the others somnolently await their fate, I want to shout: Go at it, beat each other to within a foot of your lives—it won’t be lethal with your crusher claws taped like boxers’ hands. Then live in peace as brothers-in-arms for the rest of your hours. And who knows, maybe no one will want your ravaged carapaces, and you will live to fight another day.
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The intent of such strum und drang????...a possible "tank job"....??
Posted by: bill | August 06, 2015 at 05:54 PM
Looking forward to Chasing Dragons!
Posted by: Alan Ziegler | August 06, 2015 at 06:02 PM