The Story of Thistle

 

In the quiet corner of an old parlor, where dust danced in sunbeams and the wallpaper curled like sleeping leaves stood a grandfather clock. Its mahogany frame loomed tall, its pendulum swaying with the dignity of time itself. And inside, nestled behind the brass gears and beneath the chime chamber, lived a mouse named Thistle.

Thistle had not meant to move in. He’d been chasing the scent of dried cherries when he slipped through the clock’s lower panel. But once inside, he found warmth, shelter, and a rhythm that never ceased.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

At first, the sound unnerved him. It was too regular, too insistent. Like a heartbeat that wasn’t his. He twitched at every tick, flinched at every tock. Sleep came in fragments, and dreams were filled with swinging pendulums and echoing chimes.

But days passed. Then weeks.

Thistle began to anticipate the ticks. He’d wake just before the hour struck, scurry to his nook, and brace for the bell. He learned the difference between the soft tick of seconds and the grand toll of midnight. The clock became his world, a cathedral of time, where every sound had meaning.

He built a nest from the stuffing of an abandoned armchair and lined it with thread stolen from the sewing basket. He stored crumbs in the hollow behind the weights. And he listened.

Tick. Tock.

The rhythm became his companion. It soothed him when storms rattled the windows. It kept him company when the house was empty. It was the voice of the clock, and Thistle, in his own way, had learned to speak its language.

One day, the clock stopped.

No tick. No tock.

Thistle sat in silence, ears perked, heart thudding in the void. He waited. And waited. But time, it seemed, had paused.

So, he climbed. Past the gears, past the weights, past the winding drum. He reached the top where the chime hammers slept. And there, he found the key—forgotten, dusty, waiting.

With all his might, Thistle pushed. The gears groaned. The pendulum twitched. And then—

Tick.

He smiled.

Tock.

Thistle, the mouse who lived inside time, had restarted the world.

 

                            The End