“Really, Alexia, what could have possessed you to attach yourself to the side of the ship in such a juvenile fashion? It is positively barnacle-like.”
“God knew she was a troublesome wench, with a tongue that could strip the barnacles off a ship's hull.”
“Barnacles on the container ship of consciousness.”
“In my experience, whatever happens clings to us like barnacles on the hull of a ship, slowing us slightly, both uglifying and giving us texture. You can scrape all you want, you can, if you have money, hire someone else to scrape, but the barnacles will come back or at least leave a blemish on the steel.”
“Come on, lover, let's have a look," Eric said, giving me a quick kiss. He jumped off the back porch with me still attached to him—like a large barnacle”
“Alexia,” she hissed to her friend, “there are knees positively everywhere. What do I do?”