Swordfish

Count to twenty before you read the next sentence.

O.K. you didn’t.  I can’t expect you to do everything I say.  I can’t expect you to do anything I say.

Did you see the shooting star?  Or was it a comet?  Or maybe bits of a comet.  That amounts to the same thing I suppose.  Shooting stars/bits of old comets.

But then again, maybe it was something else.  Maybe it was a swordfish brilliantly lit up, a swordfish out of its natural element, soaring.

That’s quite funny, isn’t it.  A swordfish soaring I mean.

Humans have been able to do it for almost a century now.  Fly I mean.  So why shouldn’t the swordfish?  Those great snouts.  No, maybe not snouts.  No, there’s no real comparison really, how could you compare that appendage with anything which exists?  Other than a sword of course.

No it wasn’t a swordfish.  Not unless I decide here and now to change the meaning of the word swordfish.  No I won’t do that.  Shooting stars/bits of old comets, that’ll do for now.  That’s what I suppose I saw.

But  I’m not convinced.  Not really.  It was unlike anything else.  That’s it.  It was something that doesn’t have a name.  Not because it doesn’t exist.  No.  Because no one has ever seen it before.  The great big swordfish/comet/star.

Nothing like a swordfish at all.  Expect a bit.

 

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