Page 5 - My FlipBook

“The mouse is back! Over there!” It is a woman’s voice, but I do not take to time to look
at her. A man swings a broom at me, but hits a woman’s foot.

“Ouch!” she yells. “My foot is not a mouse!” Many people laugh. I am not laughing. I
am running for my life.

I see a broom coming towards my head and I quickly dart left. It grazes my whiskers.
That was close! I look for a place to hide or a wall, but I am now in the center of the
mosque and there are bare feet and socks everywhere. I know not to go under a carpet,
since then they will stomp on me, so I run around feet and over feet (“He ran over my
foot!” yells one man.) and around socks and over socks. I look up to see who yelled and
it is not a man with a broom, so I have a second to look to see how I might escape. In
front of me are more people and there are two men with brooms waiting for me to come
that way. The wall is behind them, as if they know I will try to reach it. To the right are
more men with brooms. To the left are a crowd of people and the greyer man with the
flying carpet. I run left. I run directly towards the greyer man, run around his bare feet
and jump, as quickly as I can, into his pants cuff. I make myself as thin as I can and
remain perfectly still. I can see nothing from inside the cuffs, but I imagine the men with
brooms are looking for me and I only hope they do not look here. I also hope the greyer
man does not notice the extra weight in his pants cuff. The weight of one small, thin and
hungry blue mouse in his cuff. Barely any weight at all! I think light thoughts.

Soon all the yelling and commotion dies down.

“Where did he go?” I hear a man ask.

“He was right here,” says another man.

“He ran over my toes!” screams a woman.

“Everyone quiet down,” says a man. “Shhh.” The room becomes quiet. The man
continues, “The blue mouse must be nearby. He did not go past me.” I stay still and,
though it is difficult, I hold my breath.

The room remains quiet, but soon people start whispering and then a woman says, “All
these large brave men outwitted by one small blue mouse.”

Many people laugh. They start talking again and soon the mosque returns to normal. I
stay still. I breathe very slowly and quietly.

Everyone quiets down. I feel the greyer man go down to his knees and I hope I am not
crushed, but he is being careful. The chanting starts. It is beautiful and relaxing. Before I
fall asleep, I hear (or I think I hear) the greyer man say, “I know you are there, there in
my cuff, my little mavi fare.”

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