
“There’s that silly Princess Slug,” the spider said. “When will she learn that a slug can never be beautiful.” Princess Slug ignored the spider. She continued to tuck one petal, one perfect blue forget-me-not petal, behind the soft moist skin of her cowl. The spider hung above her, between the iris and the day lily. Princess Slug wished that the spider, who made such wonderful webs, had a kinder personality. From the top of the forget-me-not, Princess could see the first pink lights of dawn in the sky. She could also see all the slugs making trails across the paving stones. When she reached a safe place she would wait and watch as the morning light lit up the trails and made them glisten. Then Princess had an idea. She shivered with her idea and felt the forget-me-not shake. She slimed over its leaves and down to the paving stones. She followed the slime trail of one of her friends. She turned off the trail and turned again. She looked back. She had made a loop. She made another and another. “What are you doing you wacky slug?” the spider shouted from his web. “You’re going to fry in the sun!” Princess looked up. The spider was right. The sky was much lighter. She slimed a path to the edge of the patio and waited under a nice cool mint. She did not have long to wait. The morning sunlight touched the spider’s web. The drops of dew lit like tiny diamonds. “Beautiful,” Princess told the spider. “Of course it’s beautiful,” he said. “I’m a spider.” Then the light touched the paving stones. Princess heard the spider gasp. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “Thank you,” Princess replied. She looked with pleasure at the patio. She had used her friends’ trails as stems, and at the top of each she had slimed the petals of a flower. Her slime flowers shimmered silver in the early morning light. “Even slugs,” she said to the spider. "Even slugs can be beautiful.” The End Copyright (c) Lois Brandt. All Rights Reserved. |
| Princess Slug* by Lois Brandt |