Skedaddle
Did you know that some crabs like to pretend they're spiders, wistfully wishing they could catch flies in their claws, confusing their legs with their skeletons, crawling between shadows and regret?
They dominate the shoreline, raise Hell in the form of sunburned exhilaration and sunscreen coated corpses waiting for the birds.
They take no prisoners, snapping the spines of the helpless, feasting on the innards of a slug.
I watched one try to capsize a sea star, watched it sever all ties with its friends, destroying its self-image in a snap of its jaw, all because it wanted to be a spider dancing on a cobweb, spinning care into strands of the moon.
I watched a crab commit suicide, watched it starve itself until it became small, let it wither into a seashell because all it wanted was to be beautiful in the corner of your room.
