"That one" the man smirked, as the employee waddled towards the tank, he aimed his hands towards the splashing icy, salty water. Selecting from the few yet frightened creatures, the hand reached towards the sharp, shiny, red lobster, with the unyielding bleached tan rubber bands around it's large claws. He proceeded to take grip of its torso and pull it violently out of the water. After flipping it onto the metal table, the worker sharpened his knife. "Wait" the man cut in. "I want it alive, I am going to take it home with me, and prepare it myself." The worker shrugged. "If you insist sir." He placed the lobster in the small bucket and sealed the matching moldable plastic lid and slid it over the counter, only to be payed in 45 pence.
It was only now did Oscar begin to think up plans for him and his new friend. Although not regularly a humanitarian, he knew his relationship with this animal would be remarkably different from any between persons and natural pets. He looked down at the bucket while unsealing the lid to take a peek at the animal. Then, lifting his head up and grabbing the bucket with one hand, he pushed his side against the glass door hearing the bell ring for the last time. He knew what was coming ahead. An adventure was awaiting him.
YOU ARE READING
Oscar and Lobster
Historical FictionThis is a story about the 19th century homosexual writer Oscar Wilde and his tales with his pet lobster because, as quoted, "they are less annoying than dogs" and how they walked down the streets of London together.
