3. Between the outcropping of coral headlands, there was a small sandy beach.
There in the sand, over many years, the tide had left behind shells, forever beautiful and undisturbed.
But when I stopped, what drew my attention were not those brightly colored shells, but rather a very plain spiral shell, one that scuttled there alone through the shallows. When I grabbed hold of it, I then realized that there was a crab hiding inside, alive.
I want to thank that crab for teaching me about poetic language.
One spirited spoken phrase, unique in its construction, is far better than dozens of antiquated and elegant expressions.