An excerpt from another adventure from the series of Foible Flatworm and Crispin Spillikins. As posted by Atticus.
It had been getting warmer as the seasons began to change into spring. This allowed Foible to extract himself from his secret base and find time to reflect. He had traveled over land and water to get to his destination, his hearing zoned in on the grass that slipped underneath him, his mind blank for once.
He was not thinking of his next new invention to take over the world or one to be a distraction, no, he was thinking of the stone that he coiled up on. He looked down, his eye scanning over the word, and he took a deep breath.
“It’s been a while, father,” he whispered, allowing his words to be carried away with the residual winter wind.
… Foible paid his respects and slithered away after what felt like hours to him but only minutes to watchful eyes. Foible slowly slid up to a nearby monument and leaned against the pillar as he collected himself. He briefly monologued to himself, like most do when the setting and situation calls for it, and he inhaled the new spring air deeply.
It was because of his father he was doing what he was doing. He wanted to avenge him. Foible closed his eye and exhaled the breath he was holding only to snap his eye open at the sound of a familiar voice.
“My deepest condolences about your father, Foible” the voice said, soft and caring, right on the other side of the pillar at which Foible rested.
Foible gritted his teeth as he clenched his jaw. He didn’t immediately turn and throw a punch but composed himself the best he could.
“As you should, Spillikins, it was your people who killed him,” Foible admitted, and he felt like he left one of his greatest walls come crumbling down. It felt vulnerable, and he hated that. He hated Spillikins.
Crispin Spillikins only nodded and took a deep breath before he spoke,
“Then I cannot apologize enough and I cannot ease your pain,” he replied, his heart aching in ways he couldn’t convey properly into words.
There was nothing but the sound of nature between them for a moment, a silence that Crispin knew Foible needed, before Crispin inhaled loudly. He slid his tail around and grazed the tip of his to the tip of Foible’s and Crispin felt him tense immediately.
Neither one pulled away from the other, but there was an understanding silence between them before Foible slithered away. Crispin did not follow him, did not report to his superiors, but he stayed put until he knew Foible was long gone before slithering away himself.
