Here is the continuation of the short story named “The Crocodile”, written by J. G. Bas and published over the previous posts. The story is about an imaginary crocodile and a man and can therefore be described as psychological realism, given that it seems that the main character is suffering from a delusional complex and it is inferred that he is having hallucinations.
In less than a minute, I got dressed and I took a pillowcase and stuffed the crocodile inside. I must confess that I felt sad about the resignation and submissiveness with which he responded. So, with a bulky pillow case, I set out for the zoo.
When I finally arrived, I walked and asked around until I finally managed to locate the reptile house where crocodiles, alligators, snakes, lizards and other different reptiles lived. I waited for the right time and then I slipped the bundle over the fence without removing the pillow case. My friend – why do I call him that exactly while I am abandoning him – contorted inside the rag and in a shy way, stuck his head out. His fellow crocodiles approached him curiously, and the unexpected happened; my crocodile -mine- fled in terror, while being furiously attacked by his own kind.
What saved him were my shrieks and the roar of the nearby public, who came in my direction, intrigued by my moaning. People joined me and shared in on my relief. He then seemed to have taken courage and, taking advantage of everyone’s sudden shock and confusion, my crocodile became aggressive, faced his pursuers with determination and, suddenly, threw himself into a vertical flight, then came down spiraling to say goodbye to me and my loneliness and then headed swiftly, directly toward the clouds. Ah, I forgot to mention that the crocodile had wings, of course.