Be Wary the Berries and the Fights that You Pick
I spot a blackberry the size of a quarter. As I begin to tug the berry loose, a voice inside the brambles declares, “Mine!”
I jerk my hand back abruptly.
“Who’s there?”
A tiny triangular head emerges at the base of the shrub and lisps, “That berry belongth to me!”
I lean down to gather the tiny snake in my hands. Lifting him, I peer into his round black eyes. “You cannot stop me from taking it. You are tiny and helpless. I could crush you in my fist and you could not stop me!”
“Yeth, but my mom could.”
I jerk my hand back abruptly.
“Who’s there?”
A tiny triangular head emerges at the base of the shrub and lisps, “That berry belongth to me!”
I lean down to gather the tiny snake in my hands. Lifting him, I peer into his round black eyes. “You cannot stop me from taking it. You are tiny and helpless. I could crush you in my fist and you could not stop me!”
“Yeth, but my mom could.”
