Tuesday, June 4, 2013

A short random story about squid and cuttlefish



            I have no idea where the giant squid came from.

            But it is definitely there.

            Right there.

            Do you ever have that experience when you wake up from a dream, you eat breakfast, you take a shower, and then you walk outside expecting it to be a nice shining day outside and it starts raining cuttlefish.

            What, this only happens to me?

            Ok, maybe I am still asleep, and the whole waking up thing was part of the dream.  This reality is just in my imagination.  But giant squid do exist, don’t they?  Is there any reason why there shouldn’t be one slapping his tentacles against the bed of my truck as I try to get the windshield wipers to go to the cuttlefish setting.
           
            This is the exact moment I realize that I had burned out the cuttlefish setting when I drove through a hailstorm of barnacles last week.  Dented the truck pretty badly as well.  Now here I am trying to drive through a drizzle of cuttlefish with the wipers only capable of reaching wiping away things up to, and including shrimp, maybe an odd crab.  But no, today is definitely cuttlefish.

            I pull up to work and the giant squid is still slapping at the back of the truck.  I flick the butt of my cigarette at his eye and it hits with a satisfying sizzle.  Amazing how much giant squid hate that.  He recoils out of the way far enough for me to make it though the cuttlefish writhing on the ground and into work.

            “It just had to be cuttlefish, didn’t it.”

            “It is always cuttlefish when you least expect it, isn’t it?”

            I guess so, but that does not make it any easier.  I will be happy when I realize how inexpensive calamari has gotten in town, but that only lasts a week or so.  The damn things wont keep forever.

            And that smell, could you even imagine the smell of the cuttlefish that the sushi purveyors, and the hungry giant squid miss?

            I did tell you that the giant squid are always out when you have cuttlefish right?  They show up, seemingly out of no where to eat them.  Makes for an interesting sight.

            This is normal right?  This is how the world is for everyone right?

            I am not just imagining this, right?

            Well, I settle in for my day of work and I realize that my pen is empty.  Normally this would be a real inconvenience as the supply of ink is rather tightly controlled since the bathroom graffiti bandits started to be on the loose, but luckily it is a cuttlefish day and there is a giant squid right in the parking lot.  I grab the bucket and walk out, through the drizzle of cuttlefish and I throw a firecracker behind the squid.

            The bang of the firecracker startles the squid and he squirts ink all over the place.  I try to get as much of the ink as I can into the bucket and start back into the office.  There is work to be done.

            My work is pretty much the same as every one else’s work.  We write down random numbers and then hand them to the next person who adds them up.  At the end of the day we try to get all of the totals to add up to a certain number, but since no one knows what that number is we never seem to get it right and have to come back the next day to try it again.  It does get a little monotonous.

            One day I tried to just right down the number 17 for everything.  Another day I just wrote down 42.  Neither one was correct, and sadly I am not even sure in what direction they were wrong.  Now I try to do weird sequences.  Sometimes I think I see patterns within patterns in the sequences.  I could have swore I even had a sequence start looking like it was dancing and a little Irish man jumped right out of the page.  Unfortunately he ran from the office into the outside and was crushed by a falling cuttlefish.

            At the end of the day I go home and I sleep and I have dreams of a strange world where it rains water, and there are no giant squids slapping at my truck.  It seems so boring, and at the same time oddly intriguing.  I wonder what it would be like to live there sometimes while I am writing down numbers at work.

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