After the Rain #3

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In the midst of this dreamless spell, full of nocturnal awakenings (for what purpose, I ask, for what purpose?), a vivid dream-image of snails: fat, moist and abundant, emerging from between lush foliage and wet, freshly upturned soil.

Slow, deliberating, cautious.

Exquisitely delicate outside their protective shell, they retreat at the slightest tap of the finger into their dark, singing chamber.