A shared story by Room 12
CRUNCH! I looked down and saw, to my horror, an abundant amount of tinsy winsy little spiraled cracked shells. They looked like a mozaic, but this was not art.
The little shells were moving in a pool of slimy goo. It looked like the inside of caramello chocolate but it was way more slimy and disgusting. The blood was melting down and spreading across the wet concrete.
I looked at my new white shiny hi-topped Nikes. There was slippery slime all over them. I felt sad and angry. Stupid snail, how dare you get in my way and ruin my new shoes.
But then I realized, the snail was far more worse off than me. The snail was DEAD. I started to think about the snail's family...
What if the snail was a kid? would its Mum and Dad be worried about it?
What if the snail was a mother? The babies would have no mother or food (unless they found their uncle or auntie).
What if the snail was about to get married? Would there be a confused snail wife wondering where her fiance was and what she had done wrong?
Suddenly I thought, I don't really care about my brand new shiny shoes. There are far more other people worse off!