The Fox Who Kept Tuesday

How it begins

Mr. Fox put Tuesday in his postbag because everyone looked tired.

It folded smaller than he expected.

By breakfast, the village had skipped straight to Wednesday.

The baker was delighted.

The school roof stopped leaking a day early.

Mr. Fox congratulated himself while sorting the letters.

Then Mrs. Badger arrived carrying an unopened birthday present.

"I appear to have missed something."

Mr. Fox looked at his calendar.

"Yesterday?"

"My birthday."

"Oh."

"And my sister's visit."

"Oh dear."

"And the appointment for my tooth."

Mr. Fox considered whether the tooth might appreciate another day.

Mrs. Badger did not look as though she would appreciate the suggestion.

From inside the postbag came a small yawn.

They both looked down.

"What was that?" she asked.

"Registered delivery."

"It sounded like a weekday."

Mr. Fox opened the bag.

Tuesday lay between a gardening catalog and a letter to the mayor. It had taken off its shoes.

"I was resting," Tuesday said.

Mrs. Badger sat on the post-office stool.

Mr. Fox wished she would shout. Shouting would have given him something straightforward to apologize for.

Instead she put the unopened present on the counter.

"It was meant to be a nice day."

"I wanted everyone to have a rest."

"Did you ask them?"

The question was small enough to fit into the bag beside Tuesday.

Mr. Fox found it much harder to put away.

Outside, the baker announced that Wednesday's buns were ready. A moment later, someone asked what had happened to Tuesday's bread.

The weekday pulled its coat over its head.

"I'm not going back to all that rushing."

Mrs. Badger looked at Mr. Fox.

Mr. Fox looked at the present.

Perhaps, he thought, giving a village more time required doing something other than taking a day away.

He fetched three cups.

The kettle needed a rest too.

They agreed to wait until it was ready.