Shannon clasped the pen with his pincer and scribbled on the contract. His heart skipped a beat. He never spent this much money on anything before. But his ass was killing him.

 

“Congratulations! Enjoy your new home,” said Larry, Shannon’s Encasement Agent. Larry was a barnacle. A parasite on two levels.

 

“About damn time,” Maria added. “Can you believe he’s been in the same shell since we met?”

 

“In my defense, it was way too big 15 years ago. I grew into it. And beige was in style.” Pacing around his new purchase, Shannon searched for any imperfection he may have missed on his last half-dozen inspections. “But you’re right. I’ve been cramped for too long.”

 

“I’ll give you some privacy to get situated.” Larry unlatched from Shannon’s old shell and floated out the door.

 

Shannon probed his new red exoskeleton with his antennae. He felt the smooth surface and imagined how he’d position his body. He drew it closer with his mandibles and noted the saltiness of the new shell smell.

 

“No peeking!” he said as he curled into a ball and left his old shell behind.

 

“For Christ’s sake, we’ve been married 10 years. I’ve seen it all,” Maria chided. “How’s it fit?”

 

Shannon finished swapping and stretched out. He scurried around the ocean floor, testing the maneuverability. “Much better. Pulls to the left a bit. Is that normal? That’s normal, right? I think that’s normal.”

 

“Calm down! You’re talking a million inches an hour.” Maria sighed. “They’re never perfect. They’re part of life. Food. Water. Shell. Why are you so stressed?”

 

“The price! 500,000 corals at 18.375% interest! The monthly payment is three times my last one.” Shannon felt hot flashes and began hyperventilating.

 

“Blame the octopuses for buying up the excess inventory. At least you’re not renting from those assholes.” Maria crossed her pincers. “Can we go?”

 

Shannon and Maria crawled away from the title company’s seafloor chamber. They heard several oohs and aahs from fellow hermit crabs that saw Shannon’s luxurious new carapace.

 

But graffiti scribbled on seaweed caught Shannon’s attention: “They used to be free.”

 

* * *

 

When they returned to Sheltered Cove, the Shell Owners Association, their neighbors Kamal and Karen greeted them.

 

“Sweet new casing, bruh!” Kamal congratulated. He wrote for Shell & Diver, the leading carapace review magazine. His validation lessened Shannon’s buyer's remorse.

 

Shannon smiled. Then Karen chimed in.

 

“Red? All new shells are supposed to be white or cream, Shannon. Did you clear it with the SOA?” Karen questioned.

 

“It’s more of a maroon, Karen. Get the sand out of your fucking eyes,” Maria shot back, unable to hide her contempt.

 

“You’re an asshole, Maria. I’m reporting this.” Karen scuttled towards the SOA office. Kamal looked nervous and apologetic as he followed her.

 

“Did you need to do that? I can’t afford another if she makes a fuss,” Shannon asked.

 

“She got off easy. I should have stuck my claw up that bitch’s gill.”

 

Exhausted, Shannon called it a day. He burrowed by some fellow pagurids and prepared for a long sleep. But not before noticing his shading stuck out like a sore claw. He looked like a damned cherry shrimp. Karen was right.

 

As Shannon’s mind drifted, he thought of the graffiti he had seen earlier. Free? What was free? Nothing is free anymore except…

 

* * *

 

Shannon awoke in a panic. He was suspended in the air at an incredible height. Four to five feet! A human found him. One of the small, dumb, psychotic ones. A child? He wasn’t sure if that was the correct word. Its breath smelled like murdered albacore.

 

“Mom, look! This one is huge-mongous! The shell is so pretty,” the demon roared.

 

“Put that down and finish your tuna sandwich,” an abomination hissed in the distance.

 

Terrified, Shannon did the only thing he could. He clamped down on the kaiju’s disgusting fleshy talon with his pincer.

 

“Aaaah!” the beast screamed before dropping Shannon onto the beach. The monster lumbered away in a blind rage.

 

Shannon felt lucky to be alive. He had no idea how far the monster moved him or where he was. He could be yards from Sheltered Cove. Getting back could take days. He feared he may never see Maria again.

 

But he had a bigger problem. When the hellspawn discarded him, he landed on a massive boulder. At least two inches wide. His new shell saved his life but cracked in the process. He crept in the direction he thought was home. Worried any false move would be his last.

 

After what felt like an eternity, he reached the crest of the ocean. His dry and irritated gills breathed in the cool water. He felt relief for the first time in minutes.

 

As he rested, he looked below the fresh moving tides and saw them: shells. Every shape and size. Empty. Unclaimed. Up for grabs.

 

“My God. They used to be free.”