AnElephantCant help getting confused
Perhaps because he is a peripatetic rover
But he gets in his head
This is a pic of the Med
When clearly it is La Manche just off Dover
This is a weekly invitation to write a short piece of fiction (c. 150 words) based on a photo prompt (below) provided by Alastair.
Follow the link to see a sea-going selection of salty sagas.
But please first read AnElephant’s wet-behind-the-ears waffle.
He sits at the end of the rough stone jetty, gnawing idly on the end of his baguette.
He is enjoying the last of the late December sunshine, engrossed in his thoughts, trying to finish the story in his head.
A movement at his feet catches his attention.
To his surprise he sees a crab, a fairly large one, presumably attracted by falling bread.
He has not seen one here before, although in his homeland they are plentiful.
Something about it disquiets him.
He laughs at himself.
And sees more of them emerge from every gap, every slope, every rock.
He scrambles to his feet, abruptly aware of the unsuitability of his footwear for manoeuvring on slippery rocks.
Some bigger beasts are already crawling over his ankles, tearing at his heavy trouser legs.
He attempts to maintain his balance while trying to shake them off.
He starts to clamber towards the flat top of the jetty.
And sees that the 50 or so metres to the sanctuary of the beach are a seething mass of scuttling snapping plate-sized creatures.