Scuttle Pincer

I was shimmying, treading, down a road, worn, in a group of trees, fresh. I listened, sensed, a water trickle and then spied, took in, a giant, great, ruby, vibrant crossover gateway. On the other edge, opposite, was a massive, overbearing scuttle pincer. I was fearful, anxious but felt like I didn't want to be shakey hesitant. I climbed, shuffled, on to it's hind shell and it transported, moved me, to this land world like place infested, inundated with evil stingers; little ones, naive infants too and units, loving. I wasn't sweaty toxic anymore. I looked; comprehended how safe, cocooned, kind, looked after they were despite primary perspectives.

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