Impervious Clam

Gaius and Sören Kierkegaard sit at the kitchen table, with two sharp knives

 Before them is a bowl of microplastics, some of which are too long to fit the definition.

Ageless is the spotter.

Kobo the observer.

That one, says Ageless.

Which one? asks Gaius.

This one, says Kierkegaard. I see it.

He picks out the one that he thinks Ageless spotted.

That wasn't it, says Kobo.

It was close, says Ageless. Just like you and me, my voluptuous pumpkin,,,,

Don't start, says Kobo.

Kierkegaard cuts the curly plastic strip into shorter pieces, and tosses them back into the bowl.

I'm enjoying this, says Kierkegaard.

Really? says Gaius. Do you not think it tedious?

Not at all. I like a challenge, says Kierkegaard.

You see this as challenge? says Gaius.

To get the right size, says Kierkegaard.

It's not so hard, says Gaius. I visualise a sesame seed. That helps.

You see! says Kierkegaard. Every now and then, a new revelation!

Yes, says Gaius. I take it you have led a pretty uneventful life.

I have, says Kierkegaard. Whereas you, I imagine, have had one adventure after another.

I don't think of it quite like that, says Gaius. I dabble. Especially these days. But there have been exciting times. The Germanic Wars, for example.

Help! cries Kobo.

Ageless is embracing her tightly between his front claws.

Do we intervene? asks Kierkegaard.

No need, says Ageless. She is impervious.

Physically, says Kobo. But not emotionally.

I knew it! cries Ageless.

Even this is enlightening, says Kierkegaard.

I suppose it is, says Gaius. But I'm beginning to wish that we'd arranged to meet Ageless elsewhere.

Me too, says Kobo.

Where? asks Ageless. I'll go there right now, if I'm not wanted.

West Beach, at 2.15 am, says Gaius. We'll bring the rakes. Perhaps you could give any sand crabs you come across an idea of what's wanted.

You bet I will, says Ageless, dropping to the floor and making his way down the passage.

I didn't much like his tone, says Gaius.

Nor did I, says Kierkegaard. Do you think he'll cooperate?

We shall see, says Gaius. If he doesn't, we'll go to Saint Kilda.

Kierkegaard finds all this mildly thrilling.