A Delicious End

The Gingerbread Man, perched precariously on the fox’s snout, felt a thrill race through his crumbly body. The river, a shimmering ribbon of silver, was behind them now, and the other side, the green and welcoming land, was so close he could almost taste the dewdrops on the clover. He had done it! He had outsmarted the dog, the sheep, the cow, the horse, and even the gruff farmer. And now, this sly fox, who had seemed so very clever, was carrying him to safety, to freedom!

"You are a clever fox, indeed," the Gingerbread Man chirped, his voice a little breathless with excitement. The wind ruffled his icing buttons, and he could feel the sun warming his gingerbread skin. He wiggled his candy eyes, feeling a surge of pure joy. He had run so far, seen so much! He had seen the bright red berries on the bushes, the tall, waving grass, the fluffy white clouds that drifted across the sky like cotton candy. He had heard the birds singing their cheerful songs and the buzzing of busy bees. It was a wonderful, wonderful world, and he was a part of it!

The fox, his red fur gleaming in the sunlight, let out a low rumble that might have been a chuckle. "Oh, I am clever, little one," he said, his voice smooth as honey. "And you are a very tasty-looking gingerbread man."