When you see the streak of a gentleman foxes’ tail as he runs by, you won’t always notice the fine tweed suit he may be wearing of a convenient fox hair copper colour. You don’t always see the underground club he frequents, night after night, as he dances away to jazz played by jazz cats, and sometimes charms his way into the dens of others.

Maurice was not to be sniffed at! For he stole a fresh new shirt every day. So he lived on the streets, but he was groomed and trés neat! And had a lot of good wisdom, “If I may?…”

The newly wedded fish wife, longed for a more examined life, she just always wanted to live much deeper.

Her young and handsome fish groom, wouldn’t give her growing room, he wanted nothing more than to simply keep her.

So she swam in the shallows, looking down at the depths, wondering what glistening treasures lay below them.

“Hummingbird, there she goes, where is she headed, nobody knows, not even she, with a dress full of holes, who could she be? Poor poor soul.”

The neighbourhood old ladies always sang the same song as Primrose floated by their houses. Primrose would turn and smile sweetly at their kind words. “They always compliment my parasol” she commented to a cat on the wall as she passed.

There was indeed a light, of a very small stature that shone brightly. It was a moonbeam of all things! That flitted around ever so sprightly! But where did it come from and what did it mean? It was phenomena that had never been seen.

The duck at the table knew that it wasn’t his time. For he was a grand, noble creature, in the midst of his prime. He’d been looking for something, something more he did seek, and he knew what it was when he started to peek.

“The rain makes it easier for my soul to swim. If it’s too dry it just floats, without as much direction. I need the rain, the rain’s resistance gives me direction. I need it. I need the rain.”

But her spirit had left her, so she fell to the floor. She breathed heavy and hard, and her conscience felt sore. She felt foolish for pining, and more so for whining, as regret rumbled inside her and she coughed up her heart.

Elliot the eel was a slippery sort. But his exterior body did not quite match his thoughts.

The Walrus was long thought about, long after that fateful month of March. The memories were painfully painful, and the stories heard were quite harsh. It took a little while before he was talked about, but when the time came, they all did. They told tales that flew around the beach, for the whole, long summer that he hid.

William’s job every day, was to do as he pleased, be it zoom along the beach in the cool sea breeze, as he had attached some buggy wheels to his little beach house, as he didn’t need very much.

The tick tock stood up and brushed himself off after his fall. The little beetle then scuttled over to the mirrored wall to inspect his body. His back shell twitched open and closed again, and looked rather like formal dinner jacket tails the guest thought as he stared at the small creature, recognising the manner of another gentleman, on a tiny scale of course.

It was a severed dog’s head, and it was hard stone cold dead! But it was dipped in molten gold to make it palatable. “My name will go up in lights! For this victorious delight! Of devouring the top dog’s power over us!”

“You don’t even have a head” she said as she looked at the faceless, hardly there man.

“I’ll take yours then” he said as he reached out and without any recognisable sensation, she felt her head lift away from her shoulders and she fell backwards into something other than her bed. 

He’d say whatever unripe thought that popped into his head, sometimes leaving his audience just wishing they were dead.

I am very suspicious of the moon, which I know is peculiar, but I’m not a buffoon!

Until one fateful day, he came across something strange, a peculiar plant that lay hidden in shade. The plant looked so tempting, with red hues and pink spots. But could it be trusted? He thought maybe not..

A cat can do as a man can do, if only you knew their secret.

He wore masks of many faces, and cloaks of many colours, and although odd-looking, he no longer looked like himself.

Claude woke up in the foulest of moods, when he discovered his claw had been stolen for food.