I once met a Bathynomus Giganteus. His name was Harold. Not that he really had a name, but he seemed like a Harold. And he heralded my love for the species.
At that time, you see, I was still only passively interested in the Bathynomi. I’d read several books on the subject and rendered a few poor drawings of the skeletal structure. But I had not yet touched the primordial skin of those great beasts.
The Bathynomi are slow, but majestic. On a sailing trip with my sister’s family we happened upon a sailor with two on board. While they chatted amiably, I ventured up to the two in their little pens, touching their skulls and even the center of Harold’s eye. They did not seem to notice my presence. Their eyes were so empty and strange I am sure they must have felt the same strangle of new love that I did.
I returned to my flat and immediately made several drawings, though Alfred shredded two. I began the poems first, but the nonfiction is where my love for the Bathynomi really shines.
I suppose I should introduce myself also. I am Mirjam, and this is my blog.
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