Monday, February 12, 2018

slug dancing

I was sitting watching a show on TV trying to figure out how to word a proposal I am writing. The show was one my sister raved about, but I was less enthusiastic about. Suddenly I heard a song and my head whipped around toward the television. The Kinks...Last of the Steam-Powered Trains.

Suddenly I was up, running to the bedroom door to shut Stevie Wonder into a cocoon of silence and skidding back into the living room to shout at Google Mini to “PLAY LAST OF THE STEAM POWERED TRAINS BY THE KINKS”. As the music wound it’s magic in my ears and around my body, I started dancing. Even though I am now officially Medicare age, I can still sling myself around. I stomped, twisted, lunged and did some weird foot work all over the room.

As I was dancing, wrapped up in Kinks vibrations, I glanced down. My eyes bulged as I came to a grinding, shuddering halt...toe to nose with... a slug... (I thought it was a twig or something the cats had dragged in from another room, until I looked closer.) It was moving...slowly...but moving. It was a slug.

Nothing kills a dancing mood faster than bumping into and almost squashing a slimy slug underfoot. 

The magic was over. ...enjoy (I dare you not to slug-dance)...