Sammy the Slug
Sammy the Slug felt so burdened, trudging along, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was looking for his home -- but nowhere could he find it. The more he searched and slithered, the more tired and despondent he grew. He would never find a place to rest, to feel safe, to call home. He paused by a small puddle of water to gain some moisture. The sun was coming out and soon he would be exposed to its harsh rays. But before the sun became a mortal foe, it provided a tinkling light that reflected in the pool of water before Sammy. In the reflection he could see that he carried a shell. He did have a shelter after all. It had been with him all along, right there on his back. Sammy could finally rest peacefully, in the comfort of his own home.
sunlight
The sunlight in the swaying leaves, and the rusted air embracing all things ordinary as they assume a wan, lugubrious charm -- all suspended in careful levitation, as daily life pings about. Day after dissolving day. No need for memories, when sentiments remain the same.
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