I stripped the barnacle-encrusted shell from my back. Over the years it had grown too snug and I longed to walk for a while as other men do, exposed to the sun in a pink skin suit. I hadn’t counted on the birds. Noisey beasts riding on the warm drafts of wind from somewhere across the sea. The gulls descended on me, forcing me to run, flail my arms, and search for a suitable replacement for my discarded home. So much for a stroll as other men do.