by David Scheel
The octopus looked at me and I looked at her, octopus-collecting on my mind. She clung to the brown kelp, camouflaged brown and kelpy. What was in her mind as she gazed back at me? Keeping my eyes on her, I reached for the collecting bag clipped to my dive belt. Fumbled. Reached again. Fumbled again. For a brief second, I glanced down to find the bag. Put my hand there where it needed to be. Glanced back up into empty kelp, ink hanging in the water. She was gone.
