Seagulls know. They are the keepers of our secrets



Barry tried again, “Ppsstt!”


“It’s the seagulls” Barry said, pointing an outstretched claw towards the dunes.
“What about them?” Replied Colin, raising his shell slightly to gain a better look.
“It’s the seagulls,” he repeated. “They know.”
Colin scuttled up close to Barry and stared straight into his eyes. “What do they know?” he whispered.

“Seagulls know.” His eyes widened, “They are the keepers of our secrets.”
Colin was nodding, but at what, he didn’t really know. As he tried to decipher the strange ramblings of his closest friend, Barry scrambled across the pebble beach towards the ocean, his voice echoing back, “keepers of our secretssssss” he cried.

Colin squinted as Barry plopped into the salty water then turned back to face the dunes. He scratched the top of his shell with a big claw and made his way over to a rather splendid rock formation. Colin needed time to think.

The grey rocks jutted out of the beach with dramatic effect, with just enough of an incline for him to climb atop. These were the finest rocks in the South East and Colin came here often, he did some of his best thinking on these rocks.

With the sound of the ocean crashing onto the beach, Colin let his mind float away to ponder the strange words now rattling inside his crusty casing. What secrets was he talking about? He didn’t have any that sprang to mind, certainly none that he had shared with a seagull. Everyone knew seagulls weren’t to be trusted, continusly on the move and squawking at inanimate objects and others whether they wanted to listen or not. No, Colin reflected, he had nothing to hide.
So as the sun began to set he climbed down from his rock and set off back home.

As he slid from the final rock, he heard a familiar squawk. A squawk he hadn’t heard since…
Colin froze. If he’d have had a spine, shivers would have shot up and down it like an electric eel on a pogo stick.

A shadow fell over Colin as the gigantic wingspan of the seagull blocked the setting sun from view. The webbed feet of the creature sinking slightly into the soft sand, and the smell of rotting fish emanated from its beak as he opened it to say,

“‘ello Colin.”

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