Shrimp microfiction

By Fionn, (practice piece)

…Thousands were drawn with great force into the living forest, caught upon great boughs of pale before the inevitable end. No matter the orientation of my body, my legs, my tail, I am stuck fast and soon to see nothing. Very well—I persist. A clutch of spawn calls my name.

Dark. So very dark as it all closes around me.

I remain in the empty ocean between until I feel a stir and find myself wake.

My world is the yellow of froth, a thick veil over all. I am curled so tightly, so safely, in my very own egg. The time has come to hatch.

I push, I writhe. My instincts tell me to struggle until I am free, and my experience knows I must listen. I press up against the barrier that encloses me. All of my tender force is thrust upon it. There is only a matter of time before it-

Mother begins to jostle us all. My egg is nestled among many, and though my head is free, I need her assistance. I am pitched back and forth until my encasement lands free upon sand.

I slip out into the waters. Cool and silky across my yet-soft carapace. I feel my swimmer legs kick into motion, a flurry of cycling that allows me to dart about. In and out, water flushes through my gills. Another chance! I need to get back to the right waters… For now I must survive a hatchling's life.