‘On board the Titanic, a lobster is saved from death at the moment he was about to be boiled. Now red, yet alive, he manages to escape, but not before an erotic moment with the woman that ate his father. This weird and wonderful little fable is like the awful offspring of Hans Christian Andersen and Salvador Dali: it is filthy romanticism and heart-breaking smut. As the story progresses, the metaphors it deploys become apparent: without or with a shell, who is vulnerable? Can love exist without pain? Do we seek in lovers the echo of one profound moment, or aspire towards someone that unites all the failed loves? Lescables’s big little story provides no answers and all the questions, beautifully.’ S.B.Kelly in Scotland on Sunday