The Nick Klaus's Fables Read Free

a
beaten leash at the end of which was attached a hunched limping
woman. The mutt’s muzzle was vacuuming everything in sight. The
daughter pulled a face. The mother’s eyes brightened.
    “Look at this coat. Thick and tangled. Must
be a jungle in there.”
    “You sure? It’s slow like a snail,” the
daughter said. Before she could blink, the mother had hopped on the
little scruff ball. They landed both on the left hind leg.
    A family of fleas was sitting for dinner.
They looked at their uninvited guests with unwelcome glances.
Tongue-tied, mother and daughter retreated to the other hind leg.
Groups of parents with their children waited eagerly in their
swimsuits with masks and fins by a shaved patch. The mother twisted
her lips: “Let’s go. This jungle’s too crowded.” But the daughter’s
face brightened.
    Suddenly a rush of excitement came over the
group. A huge wave crashed over the shaved patch as the dog
trampled into a puddle, splashing everyone nearby. Mother and
daughter were soaked, but their hair was spared. To make the matter
worse, the Greyhound ran over, sniffed the shaved patch and licked
it, swallowing the mother alive.
    “Missed me!” sneered the daughter, jumping
onto the Greyhound’s muzzle, who just at this moment shook off all
the water from his coat, sending the flea flying into the puddle of
muddy water, messing up her hair.

The Big Plastic Day (#7)
     
    Once upon a time there was a family of
plastic bags, living tightly in a box at a grocery store. Huddled
against each other, wrinkle-free, they keep each other company.
Junior was different. He stuck out slightly from the pile and
already had wrinkles. But the family forgave his messiness. His
humor was welcome while the family waited during the cold and damp
winter months for the big day.
    The big day arrived the following week. The
family members held their breath at the end of the register’s belt.
First went the seniors, all stuffed with toilet paper and boxes of
tissues. Then the parents, with fresh vegetables and roasted
chicken and spices. And then the children, with junk food, candies,
and ice cream. Junior was among them but bloated and sweating,
trying not to burst. The family frowned at him not to cry.
    Luckily, they all headed towards the same
cart. The family rejoiced at staying together, moving to their new
house and embracing a new life. Junior was last to come on board.
But as he was lifted up, one of his creased handles broke. Right
away, he was discarded. Junior looked from the floor, his family
been carted away. He called and cried, but shamed, they turned
their back on the damaged bag.
    That night, the cleaners shoved Junior in
the trash. The next day, the wind blew strong and sent Junior
reeling up in the air, tumbling down a street, and getting hooked
on a pole at a market fair. A beggar found it. He tied the broken
handle with a knot and took Junior to the local dumpster to fetch
his dinner.
    At the dumpster, the beggar filled Junior with
leftover vegetables and chicken. Junior was confident and strong
again. The knot was solid. The beggar threw Junior over his
shoulder, and Junior noticed his family, kicking and screaming
inside a blue bag, at the bottom of the dumpster. Still, he shed a
tear, as helpless he was carried away.

Pony
Tale (#8)
    In a crowded subway car, two ponytails stood across
each other. One was long, jet-black and silky, and looked stiff.
The other was long blond, curly and looked rather sad. The black
tail kept bouncing sideways while the blond one kept observing
quietly. After a while, the blond tail caught the black ponytail’s
attention. “Would you take my picture,” it asked.
    “Why should I take your picture? I don’t know you,”
answered the black tail.
    “If you take my picture, then you’ll know me.”
    “What makes you think I want to get to know you?”
answered the black tail.
    Morose, the blond tail reflected for a while. The
black tail just rode along, looking off in the