The Homeless Snail INTRODUCTION
I am writing this introduction… Why am I writing this myself, you may well ask,…… alright I will tell you anyway, I don’t know any famous authors who would write it for me, in fact, I don’t know any authors and why would I, I don’t read very much and actually I’m not very keen on books and since I don’t read their books why would they read mine or introduce it. I remember, as a child, somebody asking me if I would like a book for my birthday, I replied, “I already have a book”.
Why am I writing a book at all, quite frankly I really don’t know, I have never had a desperate need to express my thoughts in writing, truth be known it is because I am long retired, have countless time on my hands, am basically …show more content…
On his wanderings that night he was rewarded when he found an upturned flower pot with a small part missing which served as an entrance, it made for a fine shell replacement until the right one came along, the hole in the roof kept the pot nicely damp. He was feeling much happier in the confines of the pot. People often spoke of potted shrimp but Slug could be the first potted slug. He had not been as comfortable as this since being egg bound, prior to his birth or was it hatching, he remember that time clearly, his Mum come Dad had deposited a number of eggs on a fragment of cardboard from, what he now realized was an old DEFENDER box, on the fragment was written AND SLUG BAIT. and beneath it the end of another sentence, YOUR GARDEN SLUG …show more content…
He often thought about the advantages of owning a shell, it would allow you to travel anywhere without the worry of finding somewhere of safety to sleep, he had heard that people like Nameless had caravans and motor homes and were known as “Grey Nomads”, Dream on, thought Slug.
The breeze suddenly brought smells of yummy young lettuce and juicy ripe tomatoes which, put an end to his imaginings, stimulating his highly sensitive olfactory nerves, satisfying his appetite now a priority, he undulated as fast as possible to the garden hoping that Nameless would not pay one of his surprise torch visits tonight.
Slug enjoyed a lovely meal of lettuce and tomatoes, uninterrupted by Nameless, hopefully the softly falling rain had kept him at home, satisfied he was making his way home, before daybreak, for a well deserved sleep when he saw an older homeless snail, looking very much like himself, he stopped to say hallo. The stranger was pleased Slug had taken the time and introduced himself as Shelly, which Slug found quite funny since he didn’t have one, he was going to ask if he wrote poetry but decided it was a little early to test his sense of