The mouse trailing flowers from his whiskered mouth scampered into the zoo cage. He crouched then leapt, clung and climbed up the black-tipped tail that stretched up into the sky.
The mouse traversed the latticed flank, ascended the curve of the giraffe’s mane.
The giraffe chewed acacia leaves unperturbed.
The mouse wove a crown of cornflowers between her horns, and descended her snout.
Black eyes looked up into brown. The mouse’s heart pounded hard.
He slipped.
The giraffe’s black tongue flicked out and rescued the falling mouse. Gently she bowed down. Her cradling tongue uncurled.
They kissed their farewell.
Bill West lives in Shropshire, England. He is a member of the Shrewsbury Scribblers Writers’ Group, I*D Writers’ Group and a number of on-line Writers’ Communities. His work has appeared in Boston Literary Magazine, FlashQuake, Mytholog, Heavy Glow, Right Hand Pointing, 21 Stars Review, Foliate Oak and other places.
