False Brain

Shuffled away from the hot light. Under the wooden slats, the shadow was deep and quiet. Then, my eyes locked onto something nestled against the bench leg. Round. Grooved. Lumpy folds across its hard surface. Brains? My arms raised stiffly. Urggh. I shuffled closer, step by step, and brought my square fist down on it with a dry clack. Too hard. Not squishy. It rolled across the dusty patio pavers, stopping in a corner. Just a wrinkled walnut. I nudged it with my foot into the darkest spot and stood guard over it anyway.