Worldkustom 2015 April English | Page 33

Speaking of blood, I was bleeding from my stomach. It isn’t easy thinking like an 18 year-old in the body of a 60 year-old. The piece if steel I was looking for was that kind of thing. I had made it myself. Proud as a teenager I had it on the boat as I sailed underneath the trees of this Florida swamp when it suddenly popped over board short after passing the spot where the reptiles used to sunbathe. I turned the boat on a dime and watched as my beloved creation glittered at the bottom of the canal.

The long-tailers didn’t appreciate splashing but if I heaved myself down under the boat in an extremely slick manner, I was thinking 18 years old. As I not-so-smoothly heaved my 57 year old body over board I scratched the abdomen and a red streak of blood showed. Suddenly I saw it coming towards me!

The piece of metal. I reached my hand out and into the strange forest and grasped the familiar form with my fingers. Strange. At that moment I wanted to stand flabby in front of the bathroom mirror tomorrow morning. The focus did a 180. Enough is never enough,

you’re never satisfied.

Alligators have a funny thing in their mouths. The biggest tooth in the lower jaw fits into a matching hole in the upper jaw. Like a puncher. Their bite is more powerful than the Crocodile’s. Newborn alligators bite off a finger like snapping a twig. I was out of air. Looked up. I wouldn’t have the capacity to do a skew dive to the boat and glide aboard like an 18-year old. I emerged to the surface like a pressed down beach ball in a snorting, flailing foam. Thirty strokes to the boat. One, two , three, twenty-seven more to go.

The people in my social circle that have told stories about the sunbathing armor-reptiles had only seen 3-feet shortys. The neighbour told me he had spotted the mother. A tail-swooshing carnevour taller than me. Twelwe, thirteen, fourteen. Sixteen more strokes to go.

Alligators can “drift” in the water which makes them faster than the Crocodiles. If the chopper now has picked up the scent of blood and was 600 yards away. How much time did I have at my disposal 25,26,27. Three strokes left. If she clips one leg now maybe I can still reach the boat. One leg is totally fine by me 29,30. Gosh, the boat is high!

This morning I was standing in front of the bathroom mirror again. I was Flabby with the hair in some kind of unorganized abstract art piece and a silly smile.

– It’s interesting not being at the top of the food chain.

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