He remembers a previous life. There are flashes of memory of his boyhood, of family and friends. There were girls in his youth and then his service in the war.
It's the memories of that time that come most often. There were battles in the sky where he manned a machine gun ball turret suspended beneath a B-17. The memory that he can't put aside is of slowly bleeding to death, his body shredded by machine gun fire that penetrated the aircraft.
Deep beneath a methane ocean, he scratches his carapace with one tentacle and wonders what an airplane is.
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This story is awesome, thank you for writing it
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