Tag Archives: shark

The Great Below

He marched out to sea, leaving his luxury tennis shoes in a pile on the sand. While the other beachgoers retreated in light of the approaching storm, K surged forward.

She had returned. Now was the time.

He waded deeper into the water, felt the currents tug at his body.

She vanished into the sea during their honeymoon. Upset about something trivial, she threw herself into the water to spite K, to punish him, full of violence and rage. And it worked. He slid into cocaine addiction and ridiculous shopping sprees. He retreated into himself, blamed himself, cursed himself. He tried to kill himself. Then he bought luxury tennis shoes.

Yet rumors swirled: the sea was different now, violent, unforgiving, merciless. Ships were lost sometimes; people drowned sometimes; jellyfish and sharks and sea urchins attacked sometimes.

He dismissed the rumors at first. But love got the better of him. For he loved her still, after all this time.

One day he went to the sea, to see for himself, this violence, this rage. But the sea was calm, compassionate. He returned the day following, etc.

With each day, his desire for her violence and rage grew. And he waited – always at the edge of the water, always in his luxury tennis shoes.

It was her, today, churning the sea, tempting the weather. He ran his fingers through the seaweed, thinking of her muddy brown hair.

“All of this for you,” he muttered to nobody as the sea pulled him down.


This and That Spectator

I know this artist who is also a taxidermist. Naturally gifted in art, he found that he could only accurately sketch living creatures if he killed them, stuffed them, and manipulated their bodies into wildlife scenarios.

 

In his home, which I borrowed for the first time in high school to rob my girlfriend of her virginity, are lots of taxidermied creatures and accompanying artistic renderings. They’re perfect renderings and also that girl and I broke up shortly after because the dead animals, which seemed very alive, made her uncomfortable.

 

I had the opposite reaction and haven’t been able to have sex not surrounded by dead animals ever since.

 

“K, I need your house,” I implore a little less often than I like. With each visit, I find that his home is a little more overrun by his animals and his art. Last week, I had sex with a girl inside the mouth of a large shark. She cut her hand on one of its teeth and won’t return my calls.

 

I kinda want him to kill and stuff her. But he would probably want to sketch her and that would make me uncomfortable because I like her a little bit.


The Untamed World of Nature

She came back from her trip to the coast with tan legs and a long scar across her face. 

We drank cocktails at midday, avoiding the obvious topic: the scar on her face. “Thank you for not getting fat,” I said in all seriousness. “You’re welcome,” she replied. 

The scar told a violent story I only partially understood. I had never seen her drink more than two cocktails at a time. She finished her third–orange and pink, too much ice–and yanked her skirt down an inch. She must have caught me looking for tan lines. 

“I was attacked by a shark,” she said. She had been too far out. She waved off the Coast Guard when they tried to retrieve her. She swam further. Then the attack. 

“I think a bull shark attacked me,” she explained. I said nothing. 

She pulled a pen from her purse and began sketching on the back of our bill. 

“This is what a bull shark looks like.”

I examined the figure. “That’s my friend K,” I said. 

“Well he’s dead now. The Coast Guard killed him.” She stood, yanked her skirt down again and left. 

I grabbed my cellphone and punched his number in. 

Voicemail.