Mom's going back to the hospital. Random. I'm thinking about the dolphins I saw on Flipper. They headbutted sharks. I always liked their silver bodies wooshing in clear water, their pointy noses blamming into shark bellies, and those gray hammerheads bleeding next to blue and yellow fish.
I like the way dolphins are always laughing. Smartest animals on earth.
I'm wishing I had an $800 sailboat and enough confidence to sail to warmer waters, to see the dolphins killing sharks.
Who do I tell this to?
PS. It's not that I hate sharks for being sharks. If they didn't do sharkish things, they wouldn't be sharks at all and no one wants to lose their identity. I don't blame them. What I hate is that you can't tackle a shark. You can't use kung fu. It has the advantage, every time. Sharks always surprise you and then you're fighting just to stay alive. They're like a disease that way.
I'd hate to be a lifeguard -- it'd be like being a doctor, but on a beach. Some sunny day, "Ah yes, I'm sorry sir, but there's a shark right behind you. You have six minutes to live, with a 7% chance of survival. There's nothing you can do to defend yourself. We'll wring our hands for you, and maybe say a prayer before that monster drags you down into the gray sea." And then they'll rub some tanning oil on their chest and they'll take off their white coats and they'll climb into their Mercedes and drive out of that parking garage and leave her behind; they'll leave her behind for those sharks, those hungry sharks. And all the time I'm swimming against the waves, knowing I have no hope to save her, I'll feel the sun on my back and I'll think it's ironic that the sun should shine on such a stormy day.
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