Crocodile

“Tremble,” the little crocodile sang as the sands began to blow. ‘Tis day yet dark enough to want a bit of candle. “I greet the storm for thirst is the one that follows.”

“Come lie with me in this bed of mud, so cold it soothes the skin, and once the storm is over, you know the feeding will begin.”

“Watch,” says the little crocodile as it flashes toothy grins, “I’ll show you a magic show that never really ends.”

“I’ll grow and grow and grow and grow from all the food I swallow whole, and don’t you squeal, because once I’m big enough, it’s you, the audience, that will make my dinner meal.”

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