The Crab and the Fox

Every day the crab looked up from the shore at the green meadow on the hill. "I am tired of sand," he said. "I am tired of salt. I am going up there to eat."

So he turned his back on the waves and climbed. Up through the stones he went, up through the thistles, and out into the wide green grass. It was softer than sand and sweeter than seaweed, and behind him the sea grew small and quiet.

But there was no rock to hide under in the meadow. There was no wet sand to dig in. There was no wave to carry him away. There was only the grass, and something moving through it.

It was a fox who had not eaten for two days, and he came on with his nose low to the ground. The crab had nowhere to run.

The jaws opened above him. The crab looked back down the long hill, to the thin blue line of the sea. "It serves me right," he said. "What was I doing on the land? I was made for the water."

Snap.