The Slow Way Home
So now Myron was trying to hurry his wife Doris along before the tide started to get too far out leaving them high and dry just for the pickings of some wile octopus or starfish or something. Can’t stand those starfish. They just don’t know how to let go!
Doris was just inching along at, of course, a snails pace, the tide was going out and Octavio,the Octogenarian Octopus was slithering about on the bottom of the sea.
Myron was trying to make it across the end of a coral reef when they were held up by a herd of Sea Horse crossing guards and had to wait for an entire school of third grade Sardines to pass. “What else could possibly happen to hold them up” Myron thought when at that precise second , Octavius did just that-he held them up. With all six, or was it eight? Anyway, with all of his slimy, slippery, slinky tentacles waving about, he told them to stop right in their sloshy,slug tracks and to just hold it right there.
Doris was petrified and at first, Myron was a bit worried himself. It was then that he saw Octavius may have had the will to hold them up but, being an Octogenarian Octopus, he was just about pooped out already, had no weapon other than his old, weak tentacles and not much of a beak to speak of.
That was when Myron grabbed Doris and nudged her into nearby Sharkies Sand Bar, an old friend back in the day.
Well, alls well that ends well they say. Octavius never followed Myron and Doris because once they were out of sight he forgot who was looking for. I mean, we are talking about an eighty year old octopus here… c’mon.
Sharkie
Sharkie, remembering Myron and his wife said, “drinks are on the house and this wave is on me”. So they all ordered extra dry martinis and celebrated their good fortune.
When Synapses Go Bad 