Crawfish

Her rattletrap Ford died in Austin, Texas on July 9, 1975. She wandered the bars on 6th Street until she found a fellow musician willing to loan a couch to crash on for a few days. Her new friend took her to a spot down by the river where a waiter dumped a bucket of crawfish on a piece of butcher paper in the middle of their table. She stared at the mess. She was supposed to eat that?

Please use the open space below to share your first 50 words on the topic “crawfish.”

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Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

3 thoughts on “Crawfish”

  1. He looked at the expression on her face. You don’t like crawfish he asked? You want me to eat crawdaddies; that is what we called them in Northeastern Pennsylvania where I grew up. As kids we used to find those disgusting little critters hiding under rocks along mountain creeks in the summertime. I think I’ve lost my appetite.

  2. “See I got him, see the size
    Stripped and cleaned before your eyes
    Sweet meat look, fresh and ready to cook
    Crawfish” …. part of the lyrics of the song Crawfish, from Elvis Presley’s movie “King Creole.”

    When those are set on the brown papered table with an ice cold drink on a hot, humid afternoon….mm mm mm. Sweet and delish. Just don’t pay attention to the eyes, etc. You have to close your eyes and just eat them while you listen to the warm, sluggish brown southern water drifting on down to the bayou. Then you get to lick your fingers and take that final slug of cold beer to top it all off. Nothing better for lunch or a snack!

    The only thing to add would be if you were lucky enough to feel the slightest little warm breeze before getting back in your car.

  3. The Faulks are a loud family. Not angry shouting loud, but joyful, yelling across the yard to friends and family loud. Turn up the music and let’s dance loud. Invite the entire neighborhood to the annual “All Faulked Up” crawfish boil loud. These days four generations of Faulks, three generations of Woodruffs, Mitchells, Thibodeauxs, and Stivers make up the heart and soul of this event. The families have been friends and neighbors for more than 50 years and as the families grow, so does the boil.

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