Photo Story: At a speed of 0.5 inches per second
The heartbeat is fast and sharp, except no one knows where the snail’s heart is. It keeps gold dust inside its shell, for times of trouble. Its trail is golden and glittery, not sticky-grey as is commonly thought. Zoologists claim that snails can fall in love, but the gravel path is bumpy. Never once looking back, the snail glides forward, muscles contracting, this life, this life. It hums to itself, songs in snail-language, a disappearing language. The journey from A to B is slow and almost forever. Suddenly, one day, it has reached Z. Look, its shell has started cracking.
Photographer: maaddin
The heartbeat is fast and sharp, except no one knows where the snail’s heart is. It keeps gold dust inside its shell, for times of trouble. Its trail is golden and glittery, not sticky-grey as is commonly thought. Zoologists claim that snails can fall in love, but the gravel path is bumpy. Never once looking back, the snail glides forward, muscles contracting, this life, this life. It hums to itself, songs in snail-language, a disappearing language. The journey from A to B is slow and almost forever. Suddenly, one day, it has reached Z. Look, its shell has started cracking.
The thought of snail language, a humming snail may stick with me like his slimy trail.