Wednesday, 16 May 2012

The End by Janet Devereux

Sammy the snail moved to edge of the kerb, slow, slow, slow, slow, slow.

“I’d like to cross the road,” he murmured to himself.

“Why do you want to cross the road,” asked the thrush looking for his breakfast.

“To get to the other side of course”, replied Sammy.

 “You’re too slow to catch a cold” said the thrush.

“Who’d want one anyway? asked Sammy just before thrush pecked him out of his shell.

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