Boom! Boom! I heard the stamping of giant footsteps behind me. They were getting louder and louder. They seemed to be gaining on me! Were they chasing me?
Had they seen me scurry across the floor toward the cheese? I had to quickly shut these terrible ideas out of my mind for I had another thing to think about; getting the cheese.
My family needed the cheese, for this was the last scrap of food left in the house. If I didn't get this then we wouldn't eat for many days. I had been searching the house of the people, in which we lived in one of the walls, for weeks, but had found nothing.
I had come up with one explanation of the shortage of scraps, and that was that the people were moving.
My family prayed that they wouldn't move because if they did that meant that there would be no more food laying around for us, and that we would have to become wild mice or find another wall of a different house to live in.
I scurried behind the hutch against the wall of the dining room thinking that the people (which I like to call Bigfeet) wouldn't be able to see me behind there.
By looking through a hole in the hutch I saw the Bigfoot, that I thought was chasing me, go out the door with a box. The coast was clear, for now.
I sprinted out from behind the hutch and deftly scooped up the piece of cheddar cheese that had been lying underneath the dinning room table.
I placed the piece of cheese in my mouth so that it wouldn't fall out while I was running. I took off leaving no signs that I was there.
When I got back to my hole in the wall, my whole family cheered after seeing the enormous piece of cheese I had found.
My mother took the cheese and went into the kitchen with it. She was an excellent chef, so she prepared all of the meals.
My dad, who also loved to cook, followed her. My oldest son got the plates from the kitchen cabinets and began to set the table.
I hopped over to the recliner in the corner of the living room and threw myself onto it. I had had a long day of trying to find food and I was ready to relax.
"Dinner is ready," announced my mother, who had come out of the kitchen with marvelous smelling food. Every mouse took his or her place at the table at once.
I sat at one end of the burgundy table, with my wife to the right of me. At the other end, sat my father, with my mother to his right.
My mother had a soft light brown coat, with a beautiful pale pink nose. My wife looked much like this for she had a light brown coat as well. Her name is Rosa.
My oldest son sat to my left. He was a very rare colored mouse. His coat was an off white with dark brown, almost black, splotches. We called him Patches due to the markings on his coat.
To the left of Patches sat my son Ricky. His coat was jet black, with no flaw except the white dab on his front left paw.
My oldest daughter sat to the right of Rosa. She was named Clair and had a smoky gray coat with a spill of white on her hindquarters. To her right was my youngest daughter Jessie.
She looked very unique with a sheet white coat that had not the slightest mess up.
My father and I looked identical besides that his coat had grown to be a slightly darker shade of burnt brown.
We said our blessing and began to feast upon the warmed cheddar cheese.