Inspired by a suggestion from @talespoon on Instagram. I wanted to choose a source material that would contrast with the frivolity of Dr. Seuss, and Hemingway seemed like the best choice (at least, of the books I’ve read).
He was an old man. He fished all alone. And in eighty-four days, His bad luck had grown. He didn't catch flounder or freshwater drum. He didn't catch grouper or grunt. He was glum. But on day eighty-five, his luck seemed to change: His bait had been taken! "Oh, isn't this strange! The fish is so big that I can't haul it in! I will not give up. I won't let him win." So the old man held on to his taut fishing line. He was hurt. He was tired. But he didn't whine. The old man held on for two nights and two days. He called the fish "brother" — now, that is high praise! Then finally, when the man seemed almost doomed, His great big fish brother at last was harpooned. He thought and he thought. Is killing a sin? He looked at the fish and his great big fish fin. "It was self-defense," the man said aloud. "I killed him well, and for that I am proud."