One

One There was only one, worm in the can. He was all alone but knew his fate was sealed. Born and bred to catch fish. Alive for a reason, and a purpose. Fate, to dance at the end of a line, and end his time on this earth. How? As breakfast, lunch, or even dinner. Sadly too small for any of the above, more than likely just a snack. Fate is fickle the man drops the can. The worm has been given a reprieve. Wiggle and giggle, he moves toward freedom, and a chance at living another day. The fisherman cheated out of his catch, by an accident. The worm, happy to have been given one final opportunity, out of a thousand... and joyous at his success in the end.