Hooray For Our Talkeetna
"a good cookie never ruined anything," the western jumping mouse responded. she winked. and then proceeded to nib-nibble on one. it was star-shaped and cinnamon.
In From the Sad Day Out
And she was a western jumping mouse. but, still, they both had long, silky mouse-tails. his very pink and bare, side-winding on the sheets. so that their tails tangled. like silly snakes wriggling all around each other, entwining. not letting go.
Ask a Silly Question
The western jumping mouse's whiskers twitched. twitched. "a vase," the field mouse breathed, sighing softly. "it must've been leftover from when the butterflies used to live on the surface. i found a few other things, too.
Easing Into It
The western jumping mouse wearing a dress. with straps on the shoulders. her strong, 'jumping' foot-paws soft and very close to his own. as her body leaned against his. "i just ... i haven't had a birthday party in years," emerson confessed.
Louder Kinds of Quiet
The western jumping mouse squeaked, clutching. at air. at the sheets. her breaths coming as erratic, haphazard things. but, oh, none of it bad. oh, what beautiful desperation! what sublime sensitivity! what ... ... pussy! maybe a crude, simple word.
So Sings the Choir
I can hear it," was the western jumping mouse's response. her own ears swiveling. a soft breath. and a sigh. both of them in bed, in the dimness of this, their room.
Baby Puss Retold
He was hardly one to turn down a free meal, especially if it was so eager to be eaten, and topsy and meathead seemed to agree as they ran toward the sill and the jumping mouse quickly.