Silly Slug Scramble

or
Malacozoic Malaise

It seems that our magnificent mollusk has meandered into a bit of a muddle. Your mission: Arrange the pieces below to form an intact image. To accomplish this task, choose two pieces that you would like to see trade places, then click on the boxes beside the two images. Repeat this process until our mixed-up mollusk has been restored to glory. (The center image, you will note, is stationary and may not be moved.)




The Connoisseuse of Slugs
When I was a connoisseuse of slugs I would part the ivy leaves, and look for the naked jelly of those gold bodies, translucent strangers glistening along the stones, slowly, their gelatinous bodies at my mercy. Made mostly of water, they would shrivel to nothing if they were sprinkled with salt, but I was not interested in that. What I liked was to draw aside the ivy, breathe the odor of the wall, and stand there in silence until the slug forgot I was there and sent its antennas up out of its head, the glimmering umber horns rising like telescopes, until finally the sensitive knobs would pop out the ends, delicate and intimate....the slow elegant being coming out of hiding and gleaming in the dark air, eager and so trusting you could weep.
-Excerpted from Sharon Olds, The Dead and the Living
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