seagulls and seashells

Theodoric Martin · 01-09-2011, 06:29 PM

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The tidal pool was a veritable kaleidoscope of life. Small fish circled the rim of the pool anxious to be contained in the small, shallow space. A half-dozen varieties of barnacles and clams added color and texture to the stone, and small crustaceans hid in their shadows. Theodoric sat motionless, watching small dramas in the pool unfold. One small fish stalked another, only to be eaten by a large crab in turn. There were things in the tidal pool that he could have caught and taken home for dinner, but the Gatlvska didn’t want to risk the water’s chill. He felt much like a boy again, idly watching dung beetles on his cousin’s farm.

When his legs began to cramp from his crouching position, Theodoric stood to take in the rest of the setting. The cry of the seagulls and the hungry lapping of the waves were much as he remembered. Standing on the shore was not quite the same as being adrift at sea, but the wind and the smells were much the same. In summer, he would have to return to try his luck fishing. For now, he realized he was no longer alone. The figure of a young woman appeared, warmly dressed against the day’s drab chill. Since she seemed captivated by the water world around her, he called out, “Careful, miss. It’s easy to turn an ankle out here.” The water had scored and pocketed the stone, and tidal pools like the one he had been watching were not the only pitfalls to be found.

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