“Pick me up?” asked the urchin as I neared its dead form. I bent and scooped it up without missing a step, held it gently on my palm and talked with it as I walked. I couldn’t help but admire the symmetry.
“What happened?” I questioned in a quiet voice.
“It was my time I guess, a snail, big wave, er, I don’t really remember, it’s all a blur.”
“But, did it hurt?”
“Yes, no…I don’t think so…it, it doesn’t hurt now at least.”
“I’m glad. Do you mind if I take a picture?”
“Well, er, oh, sure…I guess. Sorry, it’s hard to think, ’cause, you know, I’m dead and I don’t have a brain.”
“It’s okay, I’ve no more questions for you now.”
“Oh, good…I guess.”
I lay the urchin mouth-up on my palm. With sadness I noted evidence of the half-remembered snail attack.

“Now, smile!” I said gently, to the urchin.