here once was a little fairy
mouse, or should we rather say, a furry mouse, because quite furry she was, that
fairy mouse. Which is not unusual by the way, that’s just how fairy mice look
Well, our mouse, whose name was Squiddly, was living with her mommy mouse and
her daddy mouse in an old brick building. However, one day her mousy parents
decided to move elsewhere. That was because their current house was a rather
derelict one. An old gnomish couple lived in it, and there were a couple of
mouse holes of course, which they had inherited from the former inhabitants.
However, the mice were looking for better opportunities elsewhere – and a place
where they had other mice as neighbors. So it came that the fairy mice moved,
taking all their belongings with them.
Eventually they settled in a large barn, where they would live from now on with
other kinds of their species, among them were common field mice and even a bunch
of fuzzles. But our mice were the only fairy ones there.
Picture description. Little fluffy Squiddly, a fairy mouse, who is
also kind of shy... Image drawn by
Squiddly was a shy little thing,
always had been. Especially after they had moved, she used to sit up in the hay
loft for hours and hours, looking down, watching either the farmer or the other
mice attending to their daily business.
So her father asked her: “What is it with you, Squiddly? Why are you sitting all
day around and don’t join the other little mice?”
“Oh,” she said with a listless expression. “Nobody wants to play with me. I’m
“Nonsense,” her father, who wore imposing twirled whiskers, said. “There’s no
such thing as loneliness!”
“There is,” Squiddly replied and looked sad.
Her father scurried closer to his daughter, put his paw on her shoulder and
said: “Well, my dear, I will tell you something: Have a look at that wooden beam
Squiddly had a look, saw nothing except the wooden beam that supported the
barn’s roof, shrugged and said so.
“Look again, my dear,” her father insisted.
“But pop, there’s nothing there to see, except that beam!” Squiddly moaned and
squinted to maybe see something else.
“That beam, and my shadow of course,” she then added as an afterthought.
“A-ha, so there is something there,” her father said.
“But there’s nothing special about a shadow! Everybody has one,” Squiddly whined
“That may be so,” her father admitted, “but you can’t say that you’re all alone,
because your shadow is always there, you see? The Gods must have thought of that
when they made him and gave everyone one of its kind. Even the tiniest mouse has
got its shadow, would you believe that! It is always there, wherever you go, you
know. You couldn’t demand that much attention even from your closest friends!”
“Hmmm...” Squiddly made, not convinced. “But a shadow doesn’t talk or play!”
“No, he doesn’t talk. While you may talk, he’s always the quiet one, you’re
right,” her father agreed. “But he's a careful listener. He listens to whatever
you have to say, and he doesn’t just walk away whenever he has enough of you.
And who says he doesn’t play with you, Squiddly? Your shadow moves just like
you, runs about with you, jumps when you jump, he’s just as playful as you are!
And when he’s tired he goes to bed when you do, then he rests and the next
morning he’s alive as ever, your silent companion. If there’s anyone you can
always rely on, it’s him!”
Squiddly was still gazing at the wooden beam in front of her, illuminated by a
ray of the sun that shone through a crack in the barn’s roof. There he sat, that
little fellow. Quiet and attentive he seemed to look back at her, a silhouette
with two large ears and a round fuzzy body hinting at the furry origins it
reflected. When Squiddly moved, the little fellow moved too.
“Hmmm... I guess I’m not that alone then after all,” she finally admitted.
“Told you so,” her father said. “He’s here for a reason. To keep you company
when you feel lonely. Always remember that.”
“But he’s sooooo predictable, isn’t he?” Squiddly playfully tilted her head,
wiggled her ears a bit and watched her shadow’s instant reaction. A sudden
outburst of hearty laughter came over her. “But he’s funny!” she declared.
“Sure he is, just like you!” Her father let his own shadow pull the smaller
shadow by the ears, which made Squiddly giggle some more when she saw it.
Then, after a while of fooling around, her father asked: “Now why is it that you
don’t play with these other little mice like little mice are supposed to?”
“Oh pop, I... I don’t know,” Squiddly squirmed. “I’m new, and I’m the only fairy
mouse, so I’m all by myself. I wouldn’t dare to just ask them.”
“Sure, you’re new and are the only fairy mouse around here,” her father said.
“That just makes you special. But alone you’re not!” He pointed at the beam
where Squiddly’s shadow now looked up at her pop. “For that dark fellow over
there wants to play with these other little mice, just like you. You wouldn’t
want to disappoint him now, would you? You know that he’s the one of you two who
Squiddly smiled, but then protested: “But I’m not funny! What if they
think that I’m not funny?”
Her father leaned over, whispering: “Don’t worry, my dear! Even more reason to
take that little fellow over there with you... Because just a few moments ago
someone told me that he’s a really funny one!”
Little Squiddly looked up at her father. “Hmmm... Maybe I should go down
and talk to the other little mice.”
“You both should!” her father nodded. "Don't forget your friend."
“Come!” Squiddly said at last in the direction of the beam. “We’re going to say
hello to the other mice!”
So it came that the mousy silhouette that had been seen on the beam up in the
hay loft for many hours disappeared from that particular spot. And little
Squiddly and the other little mice would play together until the sun set over
the barn and sent all the little ones – and their shadows of course – back to