“I hope Blue Tentacles won’t be too disappointed.” Silver Grey told Yellow as all in the craft turned their eye stalks in different directions to view the panorama of their new home. Purple concentrated on his driving but felt the same way. Truly nothing young Blue had seen at the mansion of his ‘father’, at Aunt Violet’s establishment, among his peers at educational establishments, had prepared him for the stark, natural splendour of the mudflats where the homeless lived. Indeed the wild shore was even muddier than the carefully maintained tourist mudflats and mudbaths that paying Centaurians could enjoy. A recent storm had washed down any amount of mud and debris from upstream and from other areas of the sea. Decaying matter floated in the sea, decaying matter was scattered round muddy a