The mouse

The cat’s away, the mice will play

Pink whiskered nose pokes from under the refrigerator. Beady black eyes, glisten brightly. It’s dark, only the glow of the dying fire lights his journey. Tick-tock goes the grandfather clock and the old dog snores gently in his basket.
The mouse scampers as quick as a flash across the tiled floor, tiny feet barely make a sound as he searches for some forgotten crumbs. Nose twitches, he smells cheese, he takes a nibble. Snap!