Long ago, too many tidal cycles to contemplate,
an obstacle intruded both his home and his body.

             ----

It was an ugly, uncomfortable interloper, poking pointedly at his flesh,
prone to jarring him awake, arbitrarily, at all hours.
Patiently, he tamed the beast, smothering the trespasser with kindness,
and with soothing salves he had not even known he possessed.

Enveloping the invader with his own warmth, encompassing it with his care,
he gradually came to appreciate its nuances, its texture, and its substance.
Caressing its cushioned firmness, he began to sleep again more peacefully,
often using its padded density as a pillow.

Eventually, he came to regard the formerly-threatening stowaway
as an indispensable companion.
No, not a lover - never that, despite the inescapable fact of sleeping together -
but ... yes, perhaps even as a "friend".

In the lonely world below, resting on a sandy shelf,
encased within the protective shell, cushioned by soft tissue,
nurtured by nacre, the unchosen companion grew smoother and rounder,
while the outer shell grew tougher and more irregular.

             ----

Roused from his reverie by the first taste of the tidally driven feast,
the mollusk began to prepare for the sumptuous banquet,
soon to be swept from the shores
by the bountiful ebb.

Alas, instead of feasting with the flow, the oyster soon found himself
swept up by a mesh, hoisted high above the surface, dragged along a wet, wooden ramp,
then rescued from the netting for examination by a one-eyed sailor.
Finally, he was unceremoniously tossed into darkness, along with others of his kind.

In shock from the sudden turn of events, he barely noticed the dankness of the bin,
nor the reek left by its long-dead former tenants,
nor the grunts and squeals of his neighbors below,
nor the weight of those above.

Not long thereafter, in the moist, calm, captivating darkness,
rhythmic vibrations helped transform his panic and terror,
successively into puzzlement, worry, despair, resignation,
and, finally, numbness.

Jarred awake again, by rough handling, he shook off the dimly-recalled nightmare,
and began to salivate
(or whatever shellfish substitute as their equivalent)
in anticipation of the forthcoming tidal feast.

Instead of partaking in gluttony, he next found himself scooped up once again,
his shell pried open with a sharp knife then ripped away from his back,
and his body swallowed whole and alive in one shimmering lump,
down the gullet of a fat tourist perched on a bar stool

To the man's discomfort, however, the appetizer was not entirely soft and swallowable.
Along with the oyster inalienably came the enveloped intruder,
his nearly-lifelong friend and companion, and now defender.
Clinging together, they managed to lodge themselves in the tourist's throat.

The man spat, gagged, and spat again, voicelessly.
He tried to cough, reeled off the stool,
doubled over in a self-propelled Heimlich, and ejected the throat-lodged mouthful,
in the process of knocking over, falling upon, and breaking two adjacent stools.

The disgustingly-sticky projectile struck another patron in the face.
After shrieking and clutching at her face,
then letting out a profanity-laden protest,
she whispered something between the multiple piercings of her companion's left ear,

Whereupon he began uncoiling the chain that festooned his grimy leather jacket.
Slowly and deliberately panning the room,
he swept each of the surrounding customers with a menacing glare,
accompanied by a subsonic, blood-curdling growl.

The ensuing brawl resulted in four arrests, $3000 of actual property damage,
a $17,000 insurance settlement (of which $7000 went to lawyers),
broke eleven ribs and six other assorted bones,
and enough teeth to form a necklace.

Subsequently, the tavern enjoyed a booming business,
fed by stories about "fight of the century"
increasingly-elaborated and largely told by motorcyclists
never seen previously in the neighborhood.

One of the "teeth" swept out onto the wooden porch with the debris
was actually a pearly-white sphere
that once shared the dwelling and enjoyed the company of
the aforementioned sea creature.

Pushed by the broom, the "tooth" rolled along the boards,
nestled in a gap, and remains there to this day,
occasionally catching the eye and being mistaken for a stray nail head,
glinting when the sun is just right.

The oyster, alas, briefly became a shiny coating on the stoop,
but has since been entirely washed away by the rain.