Scribbles

I want to scribble again after a period of dryness for words. Now that my daughter is eight months old, I can hear the call of ideas shouting inside my head again. Although I have not put my way of expressing a thought into practice, I’m willing to give it another shot. With a bit of luck, I wish to be enthused once more.

Thursday, September 16, 2004

Chapter II: The town mouse and the country mouse

And so the waiting began. The country mouse sang folk songs to the town mouse. And at the end of every song the country mouse would ask the town mouse if she liked it. “Did you like it? Did you like it?” The town mouse replied, “I don’t like it. You have a very bad voice. You’re not singing, you’re shouting.” “Ok, what do you want,” asked the country mouse. “I want you to stop singing and stay away from me. I can’t do the things I used to do with you around.” Again, the country mouse pleaded, “Just two more weeks, dear mouse. Please bear with me until the storm comes. After that, I will be on my way to look for the rainbow.” “Why don’t you wait for the storm yourself you silly country mouse. You’ve bothered me too much already,” exclaimed the town mouse.

No matter how hard the town mouse pushed the country mouse away, he wouldn’t leave her. And so, the country mouse thought of a plan how to get away.


What do you think the town mouse is planning? Hmmnnn, let’s see. . .

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