Claude woke up in the foulest of moods, when he discovered his claw had been stolen for food.
He sat in the tank, atop many others, and pondered the tragical fate of his brothers.
To be someone’s dinner, he knew he would not! He’d rather die fighting than become a hot pot!
He’d be a crab with both claws as he was once before, and with that he climbed out and fell straight on the floor.
He side stepped away from the tanks, low and quick, and then saw what he needed, a discarded chopstick.
He picked up the stick and ran straight to the alley, where he snapped it in two and attached it in a hurry.
He looked down at his weapon, crafted in wood, and found that they pinched well, just like claws should.
It was now time for Claude to make his way to the sea, so he shuffled through crowds to the place he should be.
With every other step, he was challenged by men, but he’d nip and he’d pinch, and then run far from them.
After a long, tiring mile, he at last reached the sea. So he stopped and then smiled, and went home, finally free.
Fin.