quietly the night goes though its eternal cycle, mickey mused.
the new king was asleep in his spartanly furnished room.
it was mickey’s job to keep the king’s dreams safe.
mickey had once been a dreamer himself, many years ago.
outside in the darkness, the wolves began to yowl relentlessly.
all holy hell threatened to break loose, and then what?
but just then mickey fell asleep in a flowery meadow
perhaps this is all for the best, he thought helplessly.
every time he had a job to do, things happened.
white clouds rolled by overhead in the way they had.
a vision, mickey thought, what i need is a vision.
but all he heard was laughter - and he woke up.
was the king still asleep ? he wondered in a panic.
hastily he got up and stealthily approached the bedroom door.
slowly, slowly, he opened the door - the king was gone.
truth be told, he had expected no other possible outcome.
so this was the end - but was it after all?
mickey ran through the night - and into the flowery meadow.
the flowers clutched at his flying feet - no ,not again!
the soft petals crawled up his legs , showing no mercy.
under the grassy ground, the seeds were growing increasingly restless.
they had seen and heard the footprints many times before.
victory always seemed to be just tantalizingly out of reach .
but the night and the stars always had their excuses.
the joke was on mickey - he sank into the earth.
the grass straightened up and put on its best face.
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