Freak-out Time
This beach has no shells. I mean none. Shards, bits and pieces--that's all you get.
So, I was walking on the beach with Roosevelt yesterday, and these people were digging in this hole in the sand. Odd thing was...there were all these huge, beautiful conch shells and other souvenir store-type shells being dug up from this one hole in the sand! WTF? So I walked over and asked what's up. Apparently, this guy found a big shell or two, then started digging and found like, a gold mine of shells! It was quite uncanny. I just kept walking along the beach, but I was strangely drawn to this hole, the thought of why the hell there would be so many shells in one place, and plus...I wanted a couple of nice shells.
On the way back I stopped again to talk to the people, who had hundreds (probably) of REALLY NICE shells they had dug out of this hole. So I started digging around, not wildly, just moving sand a little bit. Digging and digging pursued. No good reason. I kept feeling puzzled about why there would be so many crazy shells here....
About 15 minutes pass, and then I did it. Sliced my middle finger on GOD KNOWS WHAT! Blood. Lots of blood. I'm freaking out. I walk down to the water to wash the blood off my hands. As I turn back, I look to the left and right of me. NO SHELLS. Straight ahead, in the middle of nowhere--a hole FULL of shells. WTF? Why o why did I have to cut my finger? Why. Why? Surely it was a shell... Right? What if it wasn't? Oh god. Needle, toxic waste, rusty scalpal...it could've been anything. Surely it was a shell... Right?
Off I go to find a doctor to get a Tetanus shot. Next time I write I will probably have lock jaw. How long does it take for that to set in?
So, I was walking on the beach with Roosevelt yesterday, and these people were digging in this hole in the sand. Odd thing was...there were all these huge, beautiful conch shells and other souvenir store-type shells being dug up from this one hole in the sand! WTF? So I walked over and asked what's up. Apparently, this guy found a big shell or two, then started digging and found like, a gold mine of shells! It was quite uncanny. I just kept walking along the beach, but I was strangely drawn to this hole, the thought of why the hell there would be so many shells in one place, and plus...I wanted a couple of nice shells.
On the way back I stopped again to talk to the people, who had hundreds (probably) of REALLY NICE shells they had dug out of this hole. So I started digging around, not wildly, just moving sand a little bit. Digging and digging pursued. No good reason. I kept feeling puzzled about why there would be so many crazy shells here....
About 15 minutes pass, and then I did it. Sliced my middle finger on GOD KNOWS WHAT! Blood. Lots of blood. I'm freaking out. I walk down to the water to wash the blood off my hands. As I turn back, I look to the left and right of me. NO SHELLS. Straight ahead, in the middle of nowhere--a hole FULL of shells. WTF? Why o why did I have to cut my finger? Why. Why? Surely it was a shell... Right? What if it wasn't? Oh god. Needle, toxic waste, rusty scalpal...it could've been anything. Surely it was a shell... Right?
Off I go to find a doctor to get a Tetanus shot. Next time I write I will probably have lock jaw. How long does it take for that to set in?
posted by TheSteph at 1:30 AM
2 Comments:
A little paranoia goes a long way. :D
-Ma
You must be OK as I just talked to you the other day on the phone. What is the secret of the shells? I am going to Myrtle Beach Oct 8 for a week. Should I take a shovel? Would love to get some nice shells. Not sure what I would do with them but . . . June
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