Shoes clacking on the sidewalk, almost like fish's fins. The small town was a fish tank, and Germaine sat in the fake seaweed, the pharmacy, at the soda fountain, when he walked in with those shoes. The yellow brick was made of clay, from when the land was usurped and turned upside down. The clay was burnt and made into bricks, stacked up tall and protected the people from the wind. The town sprung up on the shore of the lake, and the people like colorful fish just breathed on land.
Meanwhile in the middle of the lake, there sat the giant lizard queen, her green skin toady and ruined by hundreds of years of floating through the murk. She stuck her long neck out every now and then, scaring a small child on the shore, making an old man think he might be losing it--but it was not a figment of imagination, it was real, it was her.
She too, thought the people on land were fish, and she was hungry. She ate fish and there were only so many in the lake. The people seemed rather stiff and sharp, but like food none the less. One day she swallowed the town.
Now what.
She thought she was simply eating calories--but no, no.
She ate all of their stories.
The stories started coming out of her, pouring out of her pores, even out from the corner of her large, brown eyes, glossy with fish sheen, pouring out almost like tears.
She sat at the typewriter, her tentacles hitting all the keys at once.
If it was a piano, it would make a crushing dissonant chord.
Here, she began to weep, thinking of all the stories she could tell, if only she could type. The man with the shoes walked through her stomach, it was morse code, the way his shoes clacked.
---.. -. -... -- .. - -... - . .. -- .. -. ... ..- - .. . - - . .
Germaine had avoided being eaten by hiding in the soda fountain. She was covered from head to toe with Coca Cola. At night, she stood on the shore. Sometimes, she thought she heard clacking coming from the middle of the lake.