Sitting in this room alone, it feels like the world is asleep while I'm awake. The sun pours its brilliant rays into the room still, I feel alone. I see that it is day but it feels like light. Everybody outside my window is talking to somebody, while I sit here talking to myself. A mouse scurries across the floorboard,
"Hello little mouse,'" I say.
It sits with me and squeaks. It knows I'm lonely.
I pour myself some water and give the mouse some cheese.
It's only a mouse, but at least it's good company in this lonely hour.
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Carol Ann Townend
I'm a writer who doesn't believe in sticking with one niche.
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Instructions for Returning to a Place That No Longer Exists
I. Purpose of This Document These instructions exist because return has been explicitly requested. Please note that they are not an endorsement of the request, nor should their existence be interpreted as confirmation that return is advisable, safe, or even possible in any way commonly understood. This document addresses procedure only.
By Shannon Hilson2 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
At least mice don't argue! (You may want to check the 4th sentence. I think you meant night instead of light.)