wabbler

During this time of waiting, the Wabbler heard many sounds.

But it was the Wabbler's destiny to end all that.

It passed within twenty feet of the fourth Wabbler, and they could see each other clearly.

But day and night meant little to the Wabbler.

The Wabbler may have known what had happened, or it may not.

But none of them came quite close enough to the Wabbler to constitute its destiny.

Before the tide turned, the Wabbler had moved two miles nearer to the land.

Sounds in the air did not reach the Wabbler.

The Wabbler went onward in the wake of its fellow.

But the Wabbler had no anchor cable for the sweep to catch.

The Wabbler may have known that unloading cranes were at work.

The rest of the Wabbler had ceased to exist.

But then that spouting ceased, and the Wabbler was safely under water.

Slowly, the pressure of water against one of the Wabbler's sides became evident.

But it was far away and the Wabbler was impassive.

In the end, the Wabbler swam grandly back to the deeper water.

The Wabbler swam to the very center of that eddy and hung there, waiting.

But the tugs were not the Wabbler's destiny either.

The Wabbler went on and on, purposefully, moved by the tide.

But right where the Wabbler would pass, there was a monstrous gaping hole in that net.

The Wabbler hung for an instant with the very tip of its tail barely touching the bottom.

Once more during the light hours the Wabbler shook itself free of the bottom ooze and swam on with the tide.

In that light the Wabbler was plainly visible.

But when the current slowed again as the time of the tide change neared, the Wabbler stopped again.

The fourth Wabbler went through the hole.