But they’re not. They’re just regular, run-of-the-mill sharks who’ve developed the ability to live in fresh water. Which is totally not so effed up as to be mildly panic-inducing. If you’re the sort of person who’s afraid of sharks. Which I’m not. Because around here, the freshwater freezes, and I’m pretty bloody sure *no sharks* can survive that. Except maybe for that weird Greenland shark that’s only a shark by marriage.
Well, that’s not entirely true. I mean, Greenland sharks are so badass that they have POISONOUS FLESH, like puffer fish, but with way bigger attitudes. Because they grow as big as Great White Sharks. And for all of you racists out there, nobody ever thought to name a shark the Great Jewish Shark or the Great Red Shark, so that’s just one more thing that the whites are better at than everyone else on the face of the planet. Am I right? Of course I’m right.
Odd that we should be talking about sharks, because I had a dream the other night that had absolutely nothing to do with sharks. I dreamt of asps. I dreamt a woman held two asps in her hand. They were green (the asps, not the woman’s hands) and they wound around her wrist and writhed through her fingers. She wore a peplos and asps and her hair, which was sometimes dark and sometimes honey-coloured, tumbled down her long and graceful neck and hung in les boucles grandes just past her shoulders.
I knew who this woman was, once, but I have since lost that information. All I remember of her now is watching her hold up her hand, being mesmerised by the poisonous green reptiles, and then seeing the loveliest of smiles touch her lips. She spoke to me of ships, and she began to rock her hips, back and forth, a perfect rhythmic cradle. Everything about her mesmerised me. I reached out to caress the side of her face and she held her palm to her lips then lowered it and blew across it and my dream ended.
I woke with the song of her rocking hips in the back of my mind, and the feeling of snakes coiling around my arm.