The vague longing drifted past in random waves. Reach out. Pull in. Reach out. Pull in. Reach out. Pull in. Ad infinitum. A protist was drawn toward the barnacle’s feathery legs, and was pulled in to be digested. This one was a paramecium. The last one had been an amoeba. So had the six prior to it. But finally, the content of the current had varied.
Not that it mattered. Barnacles experience taste and texture differently from any species able to write about them. Besides, who would listen to a barnacle’s complaint that the amoebas were not crunchy enough? No, Barney would not be taken seriously even had she been able to.
What did she have to complain about, anyway? Even as stuck to this rock as she was, she had the ability to act as a female or a male, in the latter case sending her second chakra organ out for fun, to a distance as much as eight times the diameter of (now his!) body. But for now, she was configured as a female.
Suddenly, the consciousness within realized that the sperm was drifting away from a passing structure. Freedom, at least of a sort.
Next time, she’d choose some clams as her parents!
The first paragraph makes me feel so relaxed, like I’m floating in gentle waves. 🙂
Is this shorter? And cleaned up? 🤣
Cleaned up but not really shorter. I checked to make sure barnacles really eat both microscopic plants and animals. They do.
I spent 15 minutes watching some barnacles at the Marine Science Center in Virginia Beach some time ago. I was torn between jealousy and pity.
perhaps the simplest of species have the greatest consciousness and pity those species able to write about them.
An excellent point!
Love the transition: “Suddenly, the consciousness within realized that”……it fits nicely with the bisexual Animalia!