TITLE: Mr. Fiddles
By Sara Harricharan
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“Fiddlesticks!” Cried Mr. Fiddles. “How did I get out of that fishtank again?” He waved one large claw in the air. “I must figure out how I keep doing this.” He exclaimed.
Perching on the edge of the tank, he hopped down onto the sofa. Crawling up the fuzzy arm, he was nearly squished by a human settling down on the furniture.
The loud booming voices gave him a headache, but having nothing else to do, he made his way from the sofa to the floor, heading for a bright stream of light.
His delicate legs tapped across the floor, it was freezing! But it was dry. Mr. Fiddles liked dry. He sidled across the floor, hurrying for the light.
Suddenly ground-shaking thumps sounded all around him! Large pillars thundered down from above, quite nearly missing him by mere millimeters.
He skittered to the left and then to the right. Barely escaping, he slid across the floor and onto something soft.
But here in the softness, there was no light. He couldn’t see anything at all!
Mr. Fiddles scurried forward, wanting desperately to be out of wherever he was.
Something heavy and soft hit him from above, effectively smothering him. He struggled valiantly, visions of the light dancing before his eyes.
The weight grew heavier as scenes from his life flashed before him. Mr. Fiddles saw the tank, his tankmates and his favorite food. Freshwater didn’t seem so bad now. Even if he was a saltwater crab, he just wanted to be home.
Darkness closed in as the last wish faded.
The weight shifted and moved. Mr. Fiddles stirred as the weight was lifted. Light suddenly shone brightly over him.
Loud voices came from all around him and clumsy fingers picked him up.
Mr. Fiddles was carried through air and unceremoniously dumped into a familiar bit of water.
Freshwater! He was glad to be back in the tank again. It felt so good! It felt great. It felt weird.
Mr. Fiddles crawled up the edge again. Ah! There. That was better. He waved a few legs out the edge. It felt even better. He changed sides.
Boy, did that ever feel good! He crawled up a little more. Just a bit of air, couple of seconds….a minute maybe….
“Fiddlesticks!” Mr. Fiddles exclaimed. “I’ve done it again...”
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