Sleepover Lantern Mouse

Under the borrowed bed, Charlotte found a tiny mouse asleep in a teacup.

It was Grandpa's guest room, and it was her first night away from home. Her backpack sat by the door. Her own bed was far, far down the road.

"I want to sleep here," Charlotte whispered. "I really do."

But the room felt too big. The wallpaper had strange shadows. And there was no tick-tock from the hallway clock at home.

Charlotte lay down. She turned left. She turned right. She could not sleep.

Then the teacup rattled. Out climbed the mouse, yawning, with a stub of candle on his head.

"Oh, dear," he squeaked. "My house is the teacup. You are in my room."

"I'm sorry," said Charlotte. "I'm new here."

"Everyone is new once," said the mouse. He had come to find a crumb, and he marched off to the dresser to look. He did not say anything else helpful at all.

So Charlotte tried counting the flowers on the wallpaper. Twelve. Fourteen. Lost count. She tried hugging her pillow. Too flat.

Then she heard something. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

It was the mouse, tapping his tiny foot on the dresser while he sniffed for crumbs. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Just like the hallway clock at home.

Charlotte smiled in the dark. She tapped her finger on the blanket too. Tick, tock.

"What are you doing?" asked the mouse.

"Making a clock," said Charlotte. "Like mine."

"Hmph," said the mouse. He found a cookie crumb under the lamp, and squeaked with joy. "Got it!"

Then he trotted back to his teacup, tapping all the way. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The candle went out. The room was soft and dark, like the inside of a mitten.

Charlotte tapped one more time, very slowly. Tick. Tock.

The teacup gave a tiny snore.

And Charlotte's finger stopped, right there on the blanket.