Unlikely – 0.4
Kylie Unlikely awakens early:
The storm outside has passed and there is a fresh smell of ozone and seaweed in the air. Fingered shafts of light flicker through dust motes in the upper room of the water tower and there are lucid green and yellow reflections on the ceiling of the ripples from the Caleocath's tank.
She wraps herself, naked in a white sheet and squints through the window to the sea wall outside.
Although so early, she could see a small figure of a man. A very small figure of a man. A very small figure of a man, dressed as a bumblebee, making his way along the sea wall.
The short man pauses his walk, taps at a small canvas satchel at his side, and reaches inside. He sets himself on the edge of the concrete sea wall, small legs dangling and swinging. He pulls out a small triangular snack; a parcel of rice wrapped in black nori and chews with enthusiasm whilst gazing out at the distance. A horizon marked by the monolith of the Mulberry Harbour, an abandoned war relic submerged a mile away in the low tidal mud.
Kylie looks on from the tower, still half asleep and clutching the sheet around herself. A thought takes shape; she recognises this man. But why?
The diminutive figure of Trash Kawasaki finishes his rice parcel, rubs his hands together, taps his bag as if to reassure he has remembered something.
Inexplicably, he feels a sensation of being watched. He turns to look upwards towards the large Victorian water tower behind him but the sun from the reflecting glass windows makes him squint and shield his eyes. Just for a moment he could imagine the figure of a tall woman in a white sheet, darting backwards from the upper window.
He tucks his long black ponytail into the back of his black and yellow jumper; brushes crumbs of rice from his long thin drooping moustache. From the canvas satchel he retrieves a combination of scarf and bonnet, black and yellow, to match his jumper. The bonnet is fitted with small black antennae.
The solitary bee, he decides, on this fine October day, has important work to do. He was a good three miles from his destination. The Sentinels would be here soon. He had warned them but they were insistent.
Trash Kawasaki sets off. The sea front is again still and empty.
From the large tank in the top of the water tower, there are bubbles from the Caelocanth. The trouble with telepathy was that at some point, Kylie Unlikely would register the recognition of what he had picked up outside: A small Japanese man. A small Japanese man dressed as a bumblebee. Namely; Trash Kawasaki.
He could mask this thought from her for now, as Kylie Unlikely was showering; the morning music a gentle ambient remix of an old classic and favourite of hers – “Burp” by Billy Roberts.