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Old 11-20-2003, 07:47 AM   #168
mark12_30
Stormdancer of Doom
 
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Join Date: Jan 2002
Location: Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars
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Sting

A mouse crept along the mantel, nose twitching. No crumbs. In the dark corners there were several shadows that were vaguely man-shaped, some with glasses nearby. But they had not moved in the mouse's memory even when the wind blew the candles. They didn't smell very good. And they weren't dropping crumbs, either.

With fond memories of orange peels, and a rather less appealing memory of spilled Tequila, the mouse climbed down, and snuffled at the kitchen. No orders had been taken; no one had come in or out. The kitchen door had not opened in a long, long time.

His marketplace cousins were fat and shiny. The mouse pondered his own protruding ribs, and sighed. Once this place had been good living. The old customers had wearied of it, but perhaps new customers would come. He decided not to move out to the marketplace just yet.

[ November 24, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]
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