Sunset Short Story – Discover the Journey | ShadeTree Musings

1. short story about sunset– Discover the Journey | ShadeTree Musings As a child growing up on a farm in Western Oklahoma, I found myself set apart from my peers in two ways. First, from my earliest memory, I spent every idle hour performing tasks that required no thought, in a world of infinite possibilities. Therefore, daydreaming became a passion for me. Slipping into that fantastic world was as natural as breathing, and far more inviting. My second passion became reading. This started at an early age and moved readily from children’s stories into fiction of all kinds, historical novels and biographies of famous people. Both of these propensities, which many grow out of, have continued with me into my sunset years. I have read, by my estimate, over 10,000 books in my life. I have reread hundreds, and keep a small library for my wife and myself with our favorites. I still drift into that world of fantasy routinely. I currently write a weekly column for a local newspaper. It is not unusual for me to wake in the middle of the night with an idea for the column. I am compelled to rise and put it in writing. I am unable to go back to bed and sleep until the last word is down. My fiction writing in the world of imagination tends to develop without guidance, the narrative flowing as if I were reading a story or book. I rarely have a clue as to what happens next until the very end. This brings me to the tale which follows. It is my first fiction short story, written in 2003; at least I think it is fiction. SUNSET JOURNEY Mouse screamed and jumped quickly away from the elder that had bitten him on the leg. He ran to his safe spot, an old wooden cabinet high up on the basement wall and nursed his wound. Miserable and depressed, he sighed and lay down, closing his eyes, hoping to sleep. Maybe, just maybe, tomorrow he would wake to a better day.

2. He began his life under an old frame house. His five brothers and sisters were just common brown house mice. Mouse, himself, was coal black and somewhat bigger than his siblings. As you will soon see, Mouse was quite different in other ways from ordinary mice. He was curious and desired to know about things that all other mice considered completely unimportant. What was across that grass lawn he could see from under the porch? He wondered why water was wet, the sky blue, and above all – why were there fleas to torment mice so? He asked many questions of the other mice, and they always scolded or bit him for wasting time that they thought could be better spent on more important pursuits, such as finding food, sleeping, or raising a family. He asked himself often why he was so different. Mouse kept to himself after many failures to get answers to his numerous questions. He realized that asking a wall would be just as fruitful and a lot less painful than asking the other mice! He decided to bide his time, and maybe someday the answers would come. As time went by, he became more sad and lonely than ever before.