The lobster


The idea was to buy a live lobster, and to cook it at home. But when it came to putting it in the pan of boiling water, neither of us could bring ourselves to do it. The creature looked so pathetic and helpless, despondent even, if you can say that of a lobster. Clearly there was nothing to do but set it free. But the sea was sixty miles away, and I wasn’t sure if it was even the right sort of sea. Shouldn’t there be rocks? And how long does a lobster survive out of water? Melanie called the local vet to see if they had any advice. ‘We think it’s a female,’ I heard her saying. ‘We’ve called her Libby, Libby the Lobster, that’s short for liberty.’ The woman on the other end of the phone was laughing. I could hear her clearly. She laughed for quite a long time, I would even say hysterically. ‘Hey, what’s so funny?’ Melanie kept asking. Then the woman hung up.




Simon Collings

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One Response to The lobster

    1. […] have another short prose piece in International Times this week – IT maintains the anarchic traditions of the original underground magazine founded in the 1960s […]

      Pingback by The lobster | Simon Collings on 1 June, 2019 at 10:56 am

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