A kind of magic
Brie Truckle |
This is a story about friendship and magic. Magic isn’t only for wizards and magicians you know, magic is inside each and every one of us, as Brie Truckle is about to discover…
Brie is a wonderfully plump brown mouse with small black eyes and an ever twitching soft pink nose. Her nose is by far the most active part of Brie’s body, you see for a mouse, she is somewhat slow of movement. |
“I’ll be there now, when I get there,” is often heard throughout Whispering Wood, in reply to her best friend’s exasperated cries of “Brie, Brie, I’m in the middle of the Slumber, sitting on a stone, all alone. Where the Dickens are you?”
The mouse often found sitting on a stone in the Slumber, waiting for Brie, is Leicester, Leicester Pickles. He and Brie are lifelong pals and get along a treat. Leicester can hurry Brie along and she can slow him down. He is a long thin mouse with wiry fur as black as burnt toast, who seldom keeps still. He scampers and scuttles about, always busy, always one step ahead, except when he’s sitting waiting for Brie, on a stone, in the Slumber.
The Slumbering River begins just beyond where the eye can see, at the edge of Whispering Wood. Here two small streams, the Trundle and the Trickle meet up and babble on together, to become the river known as, ‘the Slumber’.
Brie lives to the left of the Slumber and Leicester to the right, depending on which way you are looking of course, it could easily be the other way round!
Every morning they meet up, using their river rocks, which sit in the shallow water, as stepping stones to cross it. Spending long carefree days singing, dancing and laughing until their tummies are sore, as all good friends do. Life on the banks of the Slumber, nestled in Whispering Wood is grand.
Brie slowly stretches, all four paws in the air as she wiggles over onto her side, then plops out of bed and meanders up to the small round window to see what’s making all the noise. What a din! It sounds like a bear who’s trod on a thistle, she’s never heard such a loud grumbling roar before. Peering through the cold damp glass, Brie gives a little “Oh,” sound, then a trembling “What’s happening?” But of course there’s no one to answer her. It seems as if the Slumber is bigger, deeper, wider, spilling out over the river bank and the stepping stones are nowhere to be seen!
Curled up into a ball, nose touching her tail, Brie tries to ignore the tappety tap at the window. She’s made a plan of action and this is it, curl up into a ball and pretend everything is okay. The plan doesn’t allow for tapping and, even with her paws clamped firmly over her delicate ears, she can still hear it.
Reluctantly Brie unfurls herself, slowly turning to face the window then quickly rolls herself back up with a whimper. Olga Owl is the tapper and if she were to believe the chit chat of the chaffinches and gabbling of the goslings then Brie ought to stick with the plan and hope that Olga isn’t too peckish. Brie wishes that Leicester was here, he’d know what to do. Even if he didn’t, they’d be less scared together. Before long the little mouse finds her thoughts are scampering away with her. What if Olga got in? What if the Slumber stayed like this? What if she never saw Leicester again? Brie was so busy getting her whiskers in a knot that she hadn’t noticed the tapping had stopped and a soggy piece of card has been slid under the door. Olga had been trying to help by delivering a message. The card reads…
The mouse often found sitting on a stone in the Slumber, waiting for Brie, is Leicester, Leicester Pickles. He and Brie are lifelong pals and get along a treat. Leicester can hurry Brie along and she can slow him down. He is a long thin mouse with wiry fur as black as burnt toast, who seldom keeps still. He scampers and scuttles about, always busy, always one step ahead, except when he’s sitting waiting for Brie, on a stone, in the Slumber.
The Slumbering River begins just beyond where the eye can see, at the edge of Whispering Wood. Here two small streams, the Trundle and the Trickle meet up and babble on together, to become the river known as, ‘the Slumber’.
Brie lives to the left of the Slumber and Leicester to the right, depending on which way you are looking of course, it could easily be the other way round!
Every morning they meet up, using their river rocks, which sit in the shallow water, as stepping stones to cross it. Spending long carefree days singing, dancing and laughing until their tummies are sore, as all good friends do. Life on the banks of the Slumber, nestled in Whispering Wood is grand.
Brie slowly stretches, all four paws in the air as she wiggles over onto her side, then plops out of bed and meanders up to the small round window to see what’s making all the noise. What a din! It sounds like a bear who’s trod on a thistle, she’s never heard such a loud grumbling roar before. Peering through the cold damp glass, Brie gives a little “Oh,” sound, then a trembling “What’s happening?” But of course there’s no one to answer her. It seems as if the Slumber is bigger, deeper, wider, spilling out over the river bank and the stepping stones are nowhere to be seen!
Curled up into a ball, nose touching her tail, Brie tries to ignore the tappety tap at the window. She’s made a plan of action and this is it, curl up into a ball and pretend everything is okay. The plan doesn’t allow for tapping and, even with her paws clamped firmly over her delicate ears, she can still hear it.
Reluctantly Brie unfurls herself, slowly turning to face the window then quickly rolls herself back up with a whimper. Olga Owl is the tapper and if she were to believe the chit chat of the chaffinches and gabbling of the goslings then Brie ought to stick with the plan and hope that Olga isn’t too peckish. Brie wishes that Leicester was here, he’d know what to do. Even if he didn’t, they’d be less scared together. Before long the little mouse finds her thoughts are scampering away with her. What if Olga got in? What if the Slumber stayed like this? What if she never saw Leicester again? Brie was so busy getting her whiskers in a knot that she hadn’t noticed the tapping had stopped and a soggy piece of card has been slid under the door. Olga had been trying to help by delivering a message. The card reads…
|
My good friend Brie
Don’t get your whiskers in a knot. The Slumber will be back to normal, one day soon and on that day we’ll meet again. Remember, even though you can’t see me just now, I am still with you Brie stops reading and scratches her head, feeling confused, then reads on. and stop scratching your head, you’ll understand what I mean Brie if you just look inside yourself. Love Leicester |
Leicester Pickle |
Well, thinks Brie that makes no sense, zero, ziltch, nada! All the same she strolls to the bathroom, peering into the mirror on the wall with her mouth open as wide as can be, looking inside herself as Leicester had asked. Nope, nothing there. As she slumps to the floor, Brie wonders if maybe she’d swallowed the riddle, is it in her tummy? Thinking about this reminds her how her tummy had wobbled with laughter as she and Leicester played tricks on each other. And then, all of a sudden, as if by magic, a ream of fantastic memories unfolds before her eyes, page after page, crammed with so many happy times spent together, a magical library full of their many years of friendship.
Leicester had been right!
Friends can be together, even when separated by a wide rolling river, without stepping stones.
The solution is inside yourself, inside your head, inside your heart and even inside your tummy, where you’ve laughed until it hurt.
And that is magic, or as we humans like to call it, love.
Written by Mrs Burrows
#Together, apart 2020
Leicester had been right!
Friends can be together, even when separated by a wide rolling river, without stepping stones.
The solution is inside yourself, inside your head, inside your heart and even inside your tummy, where you’ve laughed until it hurt.
And that is magic, or as we humans like to call it, love.
Written by Mrs Burrows
#Together, apart 2020