the gap is bridged (those worn out sneakers are still the same)

The weather turns cold as the seasons change from summer to autumn. The little mouse, carrying a small basket of fruit and carrots from the rabbits farm, feels a chilling wind blow through his little tweed waistcoat. He pulls it tighter around his body, and sighs in relief when he sees his little pond approaching in his field of vision. As he passes the small body of water, he takes out his keys, inspecting the tomato growing in his garden.

Opening the door slowly, he sets his basket on the counter of his humble kitchen, crossing the room as soon as he has taken off his jacket. The little mouse lights the fire in the fireplace with his last bits of wood, remembering that he should visit the old beaver for supplies; the room slowly warms up, a yellow and orange glow covering the walls. The little mouse takes the time to check that all the chairs and armchairs are in order, that there is not a single cushion out of place. Glancing at the time, he realises that he should hurry and put the kettle on, or else it wont be ready in time! He takes the kettle out of the kitchen cupboard, fills it with water, and places it on the stove.

In the calm created by the patience demanded by the kettle, the little mouse notices his reflection in the water heater; distorted by the metal, but leaving his faint smile intact. Its been a long time since hes seen himself in such a state of calm, he who tries to accomplish the world in a day. The little mouse takes time to calm down, allowing himself to think of nothing at all. Suddenly a familiar but distant living room fills his vision, an ugly carpet covering the floor beneath his feet. He is covered in cuts and ragged clothes, his sneakers worn and abused, a brand he begged his parents to buy him because everyone else had them. His face is warmed by the sun, his soul by the characters he meets on his way. The kettle starts to whistle, the little mouse awakened from his nostalgia.

The little mouse takes the kettle out of the pan, careful not to burn himself, and places it on the coffee table surrounded by the armchairs. He takes out mix matched teacups and red fruit tea bags, arranging everything neatly on the wooden surface, and fills the cups with water and one bag each. He realises with a start that he has forgotten the sugar and honey, and goes back into the kitchen. As he pulls out the materials he is looking for, a picture catches his eye. There, under the tree in the photo, is the smiling figure from earlier with a missing tooth and dishevelled fur. Before he can think it over the doorbell rings, and he rushes to let the guests out of the cold.

The little mouse observes his friends place biscuits, cakes, and buns on the coffee table, laughing among themselves, and suddenly the familiar warmth he feels at this moment fills the gap between him and the young mouse in the picture.

back to last page