Refugees

February 13, 2017

Tiny hermit crabs scatter.

They sense the heaviness of my footsteps.
Legs working furiously.
A rush to protection.

 

I rinse my feet of the beach's grainy sand, the consistency of good Dijon mustard.

I am Goliath.
Meteors rain down and the crabs carry their homes to the freedom of the neighboring jungle.

 

 

 

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February 13, 2017

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