A seashell sat beside me on the subway this evening. That is, a man who smelled of a seashell (an endearing scent on a shell but not so much on a human). He had a musty salted scent about him, like when you collect shells off a beach in a little plastic bag and seal it up until you get home. Upon re-opening it you are struck with a warm sea air mingled with plastic. the scent of an ocean home long ago abandoned by a little creature.the seashell was picking his nose and reading my book over my shoulder. very un-seashell like if you ask me.
much like a little ocean creature, the seashell eventually relinquished his temporary home (the seat beside me). his exit made way for a summery clothes line of fresh linen with blonde hair. i enjoyed the remainder of my ride on an imaginary light breeze.
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