Scene 5: The Wrong Picture
With a scene by Magda Kapa (MK)
Langoustine's rock-niche was a chaos of spike-heels, scarlet ribbons and titillating bits of lobster frou-frou. Irony, she sternly whispered.
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You've got the wrong picture of me, said Langoustine, this Scampi in the mirror is not me, not anymore. (MK)
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Langoustine's jewellery collection: amethyst, pearl, clouded glass, quartz. Her face glowed a little in shallow water. She kept writing.
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The morning was as murky as night had been. Langoustine hid the note under a rock and stretched her tail. He was here. What's up doc? Haha.
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The Wrong Picture of Scampi Langoustine. The doctor lifted the mildewed book off the seabed. Now he was getting somewhere! But where?
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There was nothing in any of this. Marine mouths, marine eyes. Nothing. The doctor wrung out his bow tie again but it remained wet. Crablife!
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The feet on the pier were drumming their way into the doctor's head. He picked a slither of weed off a rock. He listened. Faint music. Rain.
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You hear that song, Langoustine asked him. Ah, that, he said. What is it? The bells of Dunwich, she said. A drop in the ocean, he quipped.
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The doctor was sick of puns, especially his own. Why don't you wear something scampi, he once caught himself saying and stepped sideways.
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Scampi, skimpy...he pondered. Lobsters! Meanwhile Langoustine was on the undersea phone to an unlisted number. A faint hissing. Silence.
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The thought of lobster mobsters made her giggle. The doctor frowned. Crab scabs, he responded. They put the cards away and swam a while.
To be continued...
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