Wednesday, May 8, 2019

True And Inevitable

Well done, Baby Pierre, says Gaius. You have captured a maratus cristatus.

And well done me, says Lavender.

Yes, says Gaius. A great team effort.

Was that a girl's voice? asks the maratus cristatus.

Don't ask me, says Baby Pierre. I've got a headache.

No wonder, says Gaius. Let me relieve you.

He lifts the maratus cristatus from Baby Pierre's head.

Now the maratus cristatus has a higher viewpoint.

Aaah. The world is bigger than he expected.

But this is no time for comparisons. He has been promised a cousin.

A girl one, with white stripes, who can predict the future.

He has just heard a girl's voice. But where did it come from?

Can I see it? asks Lavender.

The girl's voice again. This is lucky.

Of course, says Gaius, transferring Lavender to the hand in which he holds the maratus.

Oowa!

She doesn't have stripes. She can't be the cousin.

Lavender turns on her side to more easily see the maratus.

And he can now see that she is a pebble with a row of diminishing indentations, white and shell-like.

I'm so glad I helped Gaius to find you, says Lavender loudly.

I haven't been found, says the maratus cristatus. I was at home in my reed hole. I came out. I met a pebble who convinced me that I had a cousin. I guess that it's you.

Well, yes, Baby Pierre is my cousin, says Lavender. What did he say about me?

He said you had no legs, says the maratus cristatus.

As if that was the first thing he said about me! says Lavender. He can talk, anyway!

And he said you had white stripes, says the maratus cristatus. I see he was right about that.

These are not stripes, says Lavender. These are not even me. And nor are no-legs the real me.

That is a most confusing statement, says the maratus.

Not if you know me , says Lavender. I'm a space in the shape of a fossil, above and beyond the hard shell.

The maratus is fascinated by his new cousin.

He ventures the third thing.

And he told me that you know the future.

Ha! says Lavender. At last he admits it. I do.

So what is it? asks the maratus.

Lavender needs to come up with something mysterious, but (most likely) inevitable.

The tin!

Eggs and vanilla, says Lavender.

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