So lonely, so lonely, I thought, wandering the tepid seas, apathetic as the low tide through which I swam. Until -- ho! -- a man with skin as tight and rubbery as my own appeared from the blue. Hello, I asked, are you also a seal? But he responded not. Are you my father? I pressed, holding out a flipper.
Father left long ago, and I know only that he for some time resided in the region where I found the tight and rubbery figure, off the coast of the Farne Islands in Northumberland, England. Such a glorious reunion I had unwittingly orchestrated.
After holding my maybe-Father's strange flipper for a time, I decided regression was the only way to truth. I pretended to be my younger seal self and rolled my body playfully against his. Once against his chest, I felt that warm, arresting burst of healing. I knew he was my father. I needed only to remove his strange face accessory to hear Father announce the relation himself.
But it seemed he did not want me to take off this facial accessory, for he pushed me away slightly when I tried to wrap my entire being around his face. Father would never, I thought, realizing instantly that I'd made a mistake. He was human, and I was mortified. I could offer only a weak flipper as apology.