by Laura Bernardeschi Nelson
In the deepest, dimmest corridors of the Grey Reign, Friday afternoon had finally expired. The protocol-worshipping desk-dwellers had survived another long, exhausting week of doing absolutely nothing. Now they faced a weekend of restless, anxious non-repose, though they could hardly claim to be tired from all the work they had never done.
The crowning achievement of their week had been the compilation of a hundred-page official report about a single missing screw in a broken wooden chair. It had required three committees, four signatures, and five hours of intense, perfectly hollow debate. The ink-lickers were delighted. They knew that by Monday neither the short-sighted Rhinoceros, the trembling Praying Mantis, the breathless Pug, nor Madame Bulk herself would ever notice the missing screw anyway.
To celebrate this monumental triumph of inefficiency, the mice crawled out of the dusty cracks and stopped at the House of Cheese. They searched for the stalest, mouldiest block they could find—something foul enough to awaken their narrow appetites and remind them of the damp, stagnant smell of their beloved stone corridors.
A proper mouldy dinner required a proper pairing. Alongside the cheese, they bought a dusty bottle of cheap, bitter local liqueur called Greatfungus.
Slow, heavy, and utterly without direction, the mice queued silently at the cash register to pay for the only two luxuries they had allowed themselves. Then, with their usual graceless shuffle, the paper-pushers began the slow march toward their residential burrows. Their eyes remained fixed on the pavement, so absorbed in their routine that they completely forgot about their long, clumsy tails, which were promptly stepped on by agile Vixens hurrying past, eager to spend the weekend pursuing bold ideas and joyful adventures.
Read more: The Dinner: A Tale of Moldy Comfort and Plastic Sofas.This is just the beginning of the journey. Find out what happens next and unlock the full story by grabbing your copy of the book on
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All characters and events in these stories are entirely imaginary. All rights reserved © Laura Bernardeschi Nelson.