My Sister, call her Bastion

I had to share this with my readers: a short story penned by my sis on her blog, offering a window into her life. All content copyright Courtney Rice, Super Hero LLC. If you would like to read her wonderful blog, you can find it at http://www.xanga.com/courtkicksbutt.

Once upon a time...

...there lived three crabs. Ser Grendal Bedivere, the gallant, led the crabs in never ending games of chivalry, including the joust, the melee, and of course, the digging in the rock and sand contest which culminated with throwing said rock on top of the vanquished foe. The small, yet deeply ponderous Richard Wagner oft sat by himself, brooding over the meaning of life and what it is to be hermit crab. His compositions would one day rock the world, but this day, he burrowed down into the rocks for want of privacy. And then, there was the Nameless One. Ominous of shell and long of leg, the Nameless One went blow for blow with Ser Bedivere. One might look and behold that the Nameless One and Ser Bedivere were mortal enemies, but not so. They spurred one another on towards greatness.

A day came when these three brave crabs were transported. Transported from visions of crably splendor to unknown lands. For some, the journey opened endless opportunities for glory. For others, the journey would mark great turning points in their lives. And yet, for still others, it would mean the ultimate price.

To the imminent woe of Richard Wagner, Ser Bedivere and the Nameless One settled immediately into their new stations of rulership over the Great Bureau. They came, they crawled, they conquered rocks. For Wagner, the fear of the unknown halted his composing. He could no more come out of his shell than pick up quill and staff paper. Late in the night as Ser Bedivere and the Nameless One continued in their epic combat, Wagner realized that without his compositions, he was nothing (although an untruthful worldview, it must be said that Ser Bedivere and the Nameless One were locked in their combat and were not attentive to dissuade Wagner from his mounting thoughts of worthlessness). Late in the night, whilst no one looked on, Richard Wagner ventured out of his shell and into the unknown. He journeyed into the light.

And on that morn, I found him there. Shell-less as his name day. A sad but telling look upon his face.





*And that is how the hermit crab that I possessed for less than 12 hours died. The end.*