2013-03-25 - 4:48 p.m.

Barnacles that cling to ships are solemn as rocks. George felt like a barnacle. For one thing, his skin felt solid but he knew he was slimy underneath. For another thing, George couldn't help clinging to boats. The first time he got caught was years ago when he was walking along the coast. He saw an old fishing dinghy gently bobbing in the waves. For some reason, George didn't know why then or even much later, he grabbed a hold of the old wood and George did not let go. Not even when angry fishermen poked at him with spears. Not even when a comet exploded mere meters away, destroyed the fishing village. There were few surviving villagers, but one of them was the chief of police, and he used a crowbar and pried George away from the fishing boat. The chief of police should have been focusing on cleaning up from the horrible tragedy, but he figured hey, why not do something that I can actually get accomplished? So then the chief of police took a nap. He dreamed about squids suddenly turning into dressers and about clothing covered in black ink. George did eventually become a barnacle, and he was happy with his lot, even though he was often ridiculed by the other barnacles because George wore pants. The end.