I was thinking about short stories.
I find that I haven’t practiced writing them enough, so I have decided to write a few short stories.
Most of the writing I am doing right now is for longer stories, novella sized. At the same time I am doing research into particle physics to make sure that what I write about is possible in the future.
This short story came to me tonight, while I was getting ready to read a few more chapters. I thought of a Mouse in a House.
Ideally, I’d like to compliment this story with some original art, but I haven’t had the time yet.
A Mouse in a House
There once was a mouse that lived in a house, who didn’t want to rouse anybody at night.
The mouse in a house was a nice little mouse and didn’t really want to be mean at night.
It zippered and tapered and made its way out of the house one day.
It didn’t know what else to do, it said hello, goodbye and boom!
And it was back in the house at night one day.
Why did the mouse not leave the house at night at day at noon in May?
The mouse in the house liked to eat the cheese that the nice louse had let out one day.
What the little mouse didn’t know was that the louse didn’t want the mouse in the house at night or at day.
So the louse in the house got a cat in a bag and made sure that the cat knew to get the mouse in the house.
The mouse in the house at its cheese and had fun at night and in May, but couldn’t understand the new smell it smelled outside its nice den one day.
The cat from the bag was a bad old cat, with claws and teeth and knars and beech. It was ready to eat and fleet the mouse in the house at night or in May, it didn’t care one what way.
One morning the louse when he got up late one day, he told the cat from the bag that it could get one day, only milk if it killed the mouse in the house.
The cat was ready and staked out the caked old mouse’s place in the house.
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