Squirmy Hermie's Heroics

Snip, snip . . . snip, snip.

Squirmy Hermie poked his head out of his pink and yellow-painted shell, peering out into the darkening room. Where was that noise coming from? The store had closed for the night; the only sounds this late came from his newfound crab friends as they began their nocturnal hunt for food and entertainment.

And maybe a way out of here? The nagging hope slipped into his mind for the hundredth time since he'd arrived in this place only a few days earlier.

Snip, snip . . ....