Roppotucha Greenberg

So here's another segment from the WIP creature book. Thank you for reading. “Ool, are you awake?” “I think so. Do they always talk inside your wardrobes at night?” “Yes. Always” “Then I am awake.’ “You scared?” “It’s been a month, hasn’t it?” “We were scared a lot, once. It was not nice. I want to do nice things for you? Water?” “Thanks, I drank so much coffee, I don’t know what I am anymore.” “Try it, it’s good for when you are really scared. The taste is a bit rubbish otherwise.” Ool looked into the tin cup. The water smelled of the lake. In his hand, the water moved a bit, like the lake going in and out of the sand on the shore. It was very dark in her room, so he couldn’t see him, but he knew a reflected Ool was staring at him. He has not changed his ways. He has not found out what was expected of him, and the consequences, would be bad. The reflected Ool shook in the dark. He took a sip, and it was like diving in. Fresh water sea-weed, fresh-water fi

There is a longer creature-based work, which can only come out if people read it as it is forming itself. In that way it's like an alien caterpillar] The excerpts do not necessarily come in order. Comments welcome.  Ool sat at the bar and ordered a martini. He wouldn’t normally do that. Order that is, instead of steaking and sit in plain view instead of lurking between the legs of the bar stools. But the server felt different. She wiped the bar with a cloth; served him his drink: ice-cold, human, and Ool could reach the bar fine enough if he stood on the stool. He placed his long face on the counter and watched the server through the clear glass.   “Do you have money?” the server asked in a voice that was like the rustle of leaves back in the Thicket. “Yes. But thank you for asking”. He paid for the drink and watched her move from the bar to the till, from the till to the door of the kitchen. She was graceful and dignified, and every few beats she seemed to vanish. Othe