Curious Facts About Octopuses (And You and I)

Avra Margariti

Avra Margariti

Avra Margariti is a queer author and Pushcart-nominated poet with a fondness for the dark and the darling. Avra’s work haunts publications such as Vastarien, Asimov's, Liminality, Arsenika, The Future Fire, Love Letters to Poe, Space and Time, Eye to the Telescope, and Glittership. Avra lives and studies in Athens, Greece. You can find Avra on twitter (@avramargariti).

1. Octopuses have nine brains.
Me? I wouldn’t want so many organs with which to overthink and fly into hysterics. You always ran from those—took the car and left me alone for hours, sometimes days, until I “calmed down."

2. Octopuses are masters of camouflage—they can mimic other oceanic objects and fade into the underwater scenery.
I was a wallflower at high school and college dances. Now’s no different. You said I was a nightmare at your office parties. I never interacted with the other spouses and partners, gripped my drink like a lifeline, and clung to your side so unattractively.

3. Octopuses have three hearts.
Can you imagine the sound of them cracking, the heart-chunks swept away by the undertow?

4. When feeling stressed out or simply bored, octopuses will resort to eating their own appendages.
Left on my own devices, I start climbing the walls, picking at my skin just to feel something. I never told you this. I didn’t want you to feel guilty every time you left. I didn’t want to learn whether it would have made a difference.

5. After mating, it’s game over. While tending to their larvae, female octopuses stop eating and begin to self-destruct.
One week ago, you said you wanted us to have a child. “Everything that’s wrong with you will get better once you have someone to take care of,” you told me with such conviction, I almost believed you.

6. When feeling threatened, octopuses will expel toxic ink, muddying the water.
At this point, I don’t know if I’m talking about you or me.

7. Octopuses are good at escaping, from tanks, nets, and doomed relationships.
I can tell you that it wasn’t easy. Or, I would, if I had any interest in talking to you after I asked you to pack your stuff and leave. And now here I am in the local library, hiding my tears in a random zoology book until it’s time to return to an empty apartment.

8.The thing is, you hate metaphors, whereas I always found them curiously soothing. I guess it’s a good thing I’ve decided to stop caring what you think.

© Short Édition
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