Trickiness

It was almost morning by the time Lavender found Number 291, the Esplanade, a large red brick bungalow. She crossed the road to search amongst the rocks for the Jellyfish Oracle.

Craaark! said a voice.

Who's that? said Lavender, startled.

Are you looking for me? said the voice.

Are you the Jellyfish Oracle? asked Lavender.

No, said the voice, disappointedly. I'm the Seagull Oracle. I don't know why nobody ever wants to consult me.

I know, said Lavender. You're at the wrong address. This is the address of the Jellyfish Oracle.

The Jellyfish Oracle lives next door, said the Seagull Oracle. Opposite number 293.

Why don't you change places? asked Lavender.

We can't move, said the Seagull Oracle. That's the thing about oracles.

Lavender peered at the Seagull Oracle in the dim early morning light. He appeared as a colourful mosaic cemented to a flat rock.

I see, said Lavender. Well thank you Seagull Oracle. I'll be moving along. But if you want my advice...,

I don't, said the Seagull Oracle, oracles don't receive advice. They give it.

All the same, said Lavender, it would be easy enough to advertise your real address somewhere in Henley Square, wouldn't it. You could put up a sign. Seagull Oracle, opposite Number 291 the Esplanade. Advice given. Or something like that.

Can't do that, said the Seagull Oracle, definitely not.

Why not? asked Lavender.

That's the Jellyfish Oracle's address, said the Seagull Oracle.

But it's wrong, said Lavender.

Craaark! said the Seagull Oracle. I predict that you will find the Jellyfish Oracle nonetheless.

None the less? said Lavender, who had heard about the trickiness of oracles.

Nonetheless, said the Seagull Oracle, who hadn't.