Violet
Octopus ink starts black, thins to violet as it disperses. There's an
octopus in the sink. Its eight arms have a brush attached to the end of
each of them. They scrabble away among the plates, mugs, glasses and
flatware hiding under the surface suds. The surface is so covered with
scum, the detritus of past meals, it might be possible to skate on it.
The octopus doesn't skate. Its control of its limbs precludes any such
joyful activity. Its joy is in the scraping, slushing, submarine
clearing away of the remains of a seafood banquet; prawns, lobsters,
oysters, and the octopus's small relatives, the squid and the
cuttlefish. Under its breath the octopus sings. The sounds
that come out of it echo off the ceramic tiles behind the sink.
Daphne Milne is
from Exeter, England. Her chapbook, The
Blue Boob Club, has been published by Indigo Dreams in 2019.