Restoration Ii Poem by Morgan Michaels

The phone rang. Larry picked up, and looking at Donnie, mouthed 'Paul', and pointed to the mouth-piece with his index finger. Reading his lips, Donnie nodded and resigned himself to a long wait. Paul was Lolly's vet. Larry was Paul's wife's dentist. Donnie met them at NoMad, last Christmas, after the early sitting. Donnie sometimes thought that Larry straddled the socio-professional divide a little too freely, but didn't begrudge it- this was New York, after all- what goes around comes around and it was his business. The phone call left Donnie free to watch the show, which was funny enough. He soon became engrossed in its home-video antics. Minutes passed and the call continued. Donnie waited patiently waited its end.

Larry was still talking and Donnie was still watching TV when he felt a nudge at his instep. Looking down, he saw Lolly. The free-ranging tortoise was flirting with his shoe.

'Watcha doin', pal', he said, lifting his foot.

He set the foot onto a nearby hassock. Lollipop was foiled. He swivelled his head left and right.

Donnie went back to wayching the show and minutes passed. Behind the knee his leg began to ache. A good span stretched unsupported between the hassock and the sofa's edge. He swung the foot back down onto the floor.

Then, a second nudge, this time more insistent.

The tortoise was half ways up the smooth front of his oxford.

He had a moment of surprise. He remembered having the same feeling, once, watching a man devoured by a shark, on TV. The shark snatched him after mounting the gunwale. It was horrifying and surreal, like modern life. The segment was pulled, after record protests. Virtual reality, horrifying enough, can draw that reaction.

Those surprised to learn turtles can hear will also be surprised to learn they can vocalise- in a manner of speaking. Only their vision seems poor. Donnie stared at the naughty tortoise. He was floored to see it open its jaws wide, close its eyes and emit a satisfied hiss.