Black-and-white pencil and ink drawing. A table piled with dried squid that have little eyes. From the left: an orca in a postmaster's cap laughs with eyes closed, holding a dried squid, one fin on the dolphin's shoulder. The dolphin, in a mail cap with a bag strap, holds a squid in its mouth, with little hearts nearby. The dormouse dad cries as he chews a dried squid with both hands; jacket and boots, a thin tail with a tuft at the tip. A sloth in a suit and tie bows, offering a wooden box of dried squid. At the right, a squid stands on its legs; in a cloud-shaped thought bubble above, a squid in a mail cap sorts letters at a shelf with its many legs. On the floor: a phone receiver and a black phone split in two.

Day 17

After the Rain, a Perfect Day for Dried Squid

The phone wasn't getting through, so the Sloth President of the dried squid company hurried to the Dormouse Mansion. …At top sloth speed. "So sorryyy… Due to a very common mix-up, we sent you… fresh dried squid…" "It was jiggling! Anyone would've noticed!" "So sorryyy… Due to a very common mix-up… we were a little… slothful…" "So the rain didn't bring it back to life…?" The squid had been alive all along, wriggling happily inside the letter. On Day 13, it was the squid that hopped out of the Dolphin's bag all by itself. …Then the Dolphin and the Orca Postmaster came to the mansion, too. After hearing the whole story, the Postmaster apologized to the Dolphin. Miss Dormouse doesn't like noisy get-togethers, so she rode off alone on her motorbike🏍️ Everyone munched on the apology squid the Sloth President brought. Chew, chew, munch, munch. "…Delicious." Happy tears filled Papa's eyes. As for that squid—with 10 legs, it became the post office's mail sorter. Today, as always, it sorts happily, faster than anyone. Please note: letters delivered from now on may smell a little. Thank you for your understanding. The End

Characters in this story

Drawing it — One line at a time, by hand.

Watch the whole drawing (YouTube)