Under the blanket of night, Mary wakes from her warm bed and tiptoes across the floor. As she patters to the tiny door in the wall, she feels herself shrink and shrink. With her now dewdrop-sized fist, she knocks. The door cracks open to reveal a little mouse dressed in a taffy wrapper tutu. “Hello!” she squeaks. “We’ve never had a guest like you,” pipes a wrinkled-looking mouse from behind the first, “please come in.” Gratefully, Mary shuffles into the foyer and peaks around. In the center of the room sits a table fashioned from a crayon box, surrounded by cotton ball seats. The tutu-wearing mouse excitedly leads her to sit. Cheeses atop bottle caps are set on the table, along with a blue, flower-shaped something on a poker chip. Sensing her confusion, the mouse explains, “It’s a special cake Dad found!” The mice and Mary eat and talk for hours, only stopping when the littlest mouse sicks up a dark fluid and feints. It’s chaos as the mice scrabble and squeal. Mary watches with horror as they drop, one after another. A wave of boiling nausea hits her, and Mary follows her friends into oblivion.
cooked up by vision+voice
