"The Mouse in Number Eleven"

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Mr. Abas moved into this quiet house at Number Eleven Akpan Essien Lane because he wanted peace. He was a very quiet, calm man himself, thin, careful, and always wearing socks that didn’t match. He came in with two suitcases, a plant, and a teacup that he never for once drank from. Nobody in this lane knew much more about him, and he obviously liked it that way.

But could you someone was already living in the house.

Oswald, a very small brown mouse, had already been there for many years. He just wasn’t like any other mice. He did liked music, kept his little space so neat, and only took crumbs when no one was looking. He eventually thought the house was his, and when Mr. Abas arrived, he felt more like a stranger is in his own home.

• Their very first meeting was a huge disaster. Oswald ran across the hallway just as Mr. Abas stepped out of the kitchen. Surprisingly! both of them screamed. Mr. Abas dropped his cup. Oswald also dropped his cookie crumb and both began running in opposite directions.

The next few days as well were full of surprises and fear. Mr. Abas decides setting traps. Oswald would chewed through wires and every corner of the house felt like a battlefield.

But one calm night, during a heavy rainstorm, the lights eventually went out probably because of the rainstorm. Mr. Abas lit a candle 🕯️ and walked into the living room. There, just near the warm fireplace, he saw Oswald, shivering and so wet.

"He didn’t scream and of course He didn’t move."

• Instead, he broke a biscuit into half and placed a piece on the floor. Oswald looked at it, then at the man, and slowly walked forward to it. He took the biscuit and sat still.

From that very night on, they stopped being enemies in the same roof.

Each morning, a very tiny crumb would be left on a clean saucer. Some of the nights, soft music played from the old record player, and Oswald would joyfully dance in the shadows. Mr. Abas would smile quietly all to himself, never saying a word.

• The neighbors still wondered seriously about the man at Number Eleven. They didn’t know quite well that he shared his home with a mouse. But the house was peaceful again.

And for two quiet souls, one with books, one with whiskers _ that was more than enough.

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