Saturday, April 26, 2014

A Short story.

When I was a child there was a whale that beached itself, or more likely now I think about it 
was injured and washed ashore at Phillip Island.
 I remember watching from the clifftop.
Blood and cold salty water mixed together as the whale rolled helplessly in the breakers. 
It was on the news. 
There were pictures of people sitting atop the whale. 
My mother said, "that is disgraceful that those people are sitting on that poor whale".
 I searched the world wide web but could find no record of this whale.
 I'm sure it happened I remember it clearly.
 Some men and machines, I imagine, dragged the whale all the way up the cliff and buried it at the top. For a long time there was a big mound of ugly dirt there.
It slowly sank deeper and deeper, till there was a depression there.
It took years.
There is no marker there. 

The End.

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