As Sebi Snail watched the caterpillars wiggle, the grasshoppers flip, and the ladybirds fly in perfect unison, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. He longed to join the annual creepy-crawly talent contest. But never in the history of bug school had a snail performed.
​
He tried dancing, but no one could see his moves under his shell. He gave gymnastics a go, but his heavy shell allowed only the slowest roly-poly. A tear rolled down his cheek.
​
“I wish I wasn’t a snail,” he whispered.
​
His mum was an artist, creating masterpieces with her trail. His dad was a builder, and his brothers planned to follow in his footsteps (a popular choice for a snail with their hard shell). Sebi, however, felt he was made for something different.
​
His mum snuggled him close and said, “Don’t worry, my little one. You’ll find your talent. Trust me.”
​
One day, Sebi went for a stroll. In the distance, he heard the most beautiful singing. He followed the sound until he came to a large crowd gathered around a stage. On it stood a glamorous snail, at least ten times his size. Her name was Madame Snail, and her voice was powerful.
​
Sebi stared in awe. For the first time ever, he felt proud to be a snail.
​
After the performance, he tried to reach her, but by the time he got through the crowd, she was gone. As he sat in the clearing, something caught his eye — a shimmering trail.
​
He followed the glittering path until he saw her silhouette in the moonlight.
​
“Madame Snail!” he called. No response. Snails have tiny voices. He sped up until he caught up with her.
​
“Madame Snail!” he said again.
​
She turned and smiled. “Yes, my dear?”
​
“I think you’re amazing,” Sebi blurted. “How do you sing like that?”
​
“Snails are born with a natural amplifier.” She winked. “Our shells carry our voices if we know how to use them.”
​
Sebi blinked. “But I can barely be heard.”
​
“Try,” she urged. “Sing something.”
​
Blushing, Sebi sang a quiet tune.
​
“Now,” she said, “pull your head slightly into your shell and sing again.”
​
He did, and his voice BOOMED.
​
“Bravo!” Madame Snail cried. “You’ve got it!”
​
The pair worked together for days, polishing his voice. When the talent contest finally arrived, Sebi signed up.
​
That evening, he waited nervously backstage, watching dazzling performances from the other bugs. Then came the announcement:
“Our final act… Sebi Snail!”
​
Gasps echoed. Sebi slid onto the stage, heart pounding. As the spotlight shone down on him, fear crept in.
“This is no place for a snail,” he thought.
​
He was about to slither off when the door creaked open. In came Madame Snail, glittering under the lights. She gave a wink.
Sebi took a deep breath and sang.
​
The crowd froze, then burst into cheers. Crickets chirped, bees buzzed, grasshoppers jumped, and butterflies flapped their wings wildly. He hit his final note, and the room erupted.
​
When the crowd calmed, the judges spoke.
​
“We’ve seen incredible talent tonight, but one performer stole our hearts. The winner is… Sebi Snail!”
​
Sebi couldn’t believe it.
​
“Would you sing one more time, Sebi?” the judges pleaded.
​
“I’d love to,” he beamed. “But I’d like to invite someone to join me. Madame Snail?”
​
She slithered onstage, leaving a trail that sparkled like stardust. Together, they gave the performance of a lifetime.
​
At the front of the crowd, Sebi spotted his mum. With a beaming smile, she mouthed, “I told you so.” And Sebi just knew, under her shell, she was dancing in full groove.
