Fox and the grapes.

Here is a prompt based on one of Aesop’s Fables. Enjoy!

Prompt: Fox and the grapes.

“Grapes …” Fox said.

He lay with the soft patch of his belly tight against the thin powder of the cool earth; his legs splayed out behind him. Cicadas croaked. He panted as the noon sun bore into his fur. The grapes grew on a creeping vine, six feet up, on the branch of an old willow tree; cooling in the shade.

The grapes seeped sweet scented moisture into the air and Fox inhaled deeply. The grapes were fat and seemed ready to pop through their deep purple-blue skin. Saliva gathered at the corners of his mouth.

“I do believe I’m going to have you for a Summer snack,” Fox said. He pulled in his knees and they shook with age as he stood. “Yes. Today is the day. I don’t care how high up you are. I’m finally going to taste your fruit.”

Fox circled the willow, searching for some means of climbing it. Fox had lived many years. He had eaten many fruits. But the grape vine in the willow has always teased him. Now he was ready. Fox paused where he had started, not finding an easy way up, then decided that he didn’t need one. He lowered his haunches, he brought up memories of outrunning hunting dogs in the fields, catching rabbits by the dozen in his youth, raising pups of his own, and he pushed with all of his strength. He snapped his jaw. He bit air.

Again. Again. Again! Snap – snap – snap! Fox coughed. He wheezed and his stomach contracted; white liquid pushed out on the grass.

“Ha!” Fox said. In his exertion he injured his right paw and held it close to his chest. “Grapes … Disgusting,” he put the willow to his tail, “sour, soft … Grapes. I’ve nearly killed myself for something so terrible as grapes.” He coughed into the heat of the afternoon.






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