Facing a New Day Story by Dennis M. Falk "Mister Sandman" lyrics by P. Ballard "Blue Moon" lyrics by R.Rodgers/L.Hart Story issued under a Creative Commons license BY-SA-NC 19 April 2011
Sandy O'Brien, a young squirrel of about 12, entered her room that night- The next morning was her first day at a new school, as she had graduated to junior high.
She was crying, scared that she might not get along with new furs, and might not make new friends- much less boyfriends. Are they cute? Will they like her? She was just a squirrel, nothing special--
She was terrified.
As she got ready for bed, she put on her jammies, still crying, still worried....
She turned off the light, still with a tear-stained face that didn't go well with her soft, red fur, and tried to doze off, although restlessly so.
Four female mice, as tiny as mice could be, climbed up to her night stand, squeaking gently and sniffing the air, noticing the young girl squirrel crying in her sleep.
Quietly, the four mice looked at each other, and with warm, soft voices that seem too big for their tiny bodies, but not so loud as to wake the young squirrel, began to sing:
Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream (bum, bum, bum, bum) Make him the cutest that I've ever seen (bum, bum, bum, bum) Give him two lips like roses and clover (bum, bum, bum, bum) Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over
Sandman, I'm so alone Don't have nobody to call my own Please turn on your magic beam Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream
bum, bum, bum, bum
Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream Make him the cutest that I've ever seen Give him the word that I'm not a rover Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over
Sandman, I'm so alone Don't have nobody to call my own Please turn on your magic beam Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream
bum, bum, bum, bum
Mr. Sandman bring us a dream Give him a pair of eyes with a come-hither gleam Give him a lonely heart like Pagliacci And lots of wavy hair like Liberace
Mr Sandman, someone to hold (Someone to hold) Would be so peachy before we're too old So please turn on your magic beam Mr Sandman, bring us, please, please, please Mr Sandman, bring us a dream
bum, bum, bum, bum
After finishing, they sniffed about, and looked over at the girl-- She was asleep, gently snoring.
One mouse jumped from the nightstand, climbed the pillow, sniffed a bit, and gave the squirrel a kiss on the forehead, softly speaking to her, "Sleep well, little one, as you have a big day tomorrow. It'll be alright, hon." With that, she and the other three skittered back to a hole in the wall that was their home.
The four pairs of little black beady eyes and matching twitchy pairs of whiskers peered out of the mouse hole, sniffed a bit, then went back inside, where all four were quiet for a few moments.
Then one started to softly sing- The same one who kissed the squirrel goodnight--
Once upon a time before I took up smiling I hated the moonlight Shadows of the night that poets find beguiling Seemed flat as the noonlight With no one to stay up for I went to sleep at ten Life was a bitter cup for the saddest of all men
The other three chimed in--
Blue moon You saw me standing alone Without a dream in my heart Without a love of my own Blue moon You know just what I was there for You heard me saying a prayer for Someone I really could care for
And then there suddenly appeared before me The only one my arms will ever hold I heard somebody whisper please adore me And when I looked the moon had turned to gold
Blue moon Now I'm no longer alone Without a dream in my heart Without a love of my own
And then there suddenly appeared before me The only one my arms will ever hold I heard somebody whisper please adore me And when I looked the moon had turned to gold
Blue moon Now I'm no longer alone Without a dream in my heart Without a love of my own
And then there suddenly appeared before me The only one my arms will ever hold I heard somebody whisper please adore me And when I looked the moon had turned to gold
Blue moon Now I'm no longer alone Without a dream in my heart Without a love of my own Without a love of my own Without a love of my own Now I have a girl of my own
"Do you think she'll be alright?", one mouse said.
"Yes. She is young and scared, and not used to a whole new experience. She'll be alright. And who knows? She may just find that cute boy right off!", said the one who kissed the squirrel. "Come now, it's our bedtime, too."
This one's completely unrelated to my Writing Challenges, or any world settings of my other stories.
This story just came out of the blue as I heard "Mr. Sandman" on the radio, and imagined four mice singing it to a young squirrel girl as a lullaby. With that, it's a tip o' the hat to the '90s movie "Babe", but unlike the movie, the voices are at a normal human register, and not high-pitched mousey voices.
This one, I did alot of cheating, as I copypasted the lyrics to two great doo-wop songs for the story-- Including the not-usually-used intro lyrics for "Blue Moon".
I'm a big fan of doo-wop, and the music of the 1930s that inspired the doo-wop sound.
thats a nice and sweet story that you've written. thats talent you have. some thing pop in you're head and it comming out so lovely like that i enjoy reading reading it thankyou for sharing a beautiful and well weritten story
thats a nice and sweet story that you've written. thats talent you have. some thing pop in you're he
Sometimes ideas don't make it to story, but this one did. I enjoy writing enough that I host a Writing Challenge here on Inkbunny, to encourage other writers to participate and make IB just as much a home to writing as other sites.
I'm glad you enjoyed it so much, and for the +fave. Makes me feel good that someone liked my writing. :)
d.m.f.
Sometimes ideas don't make it to story, but this one did. I enjoy writing enough that I host a Writi
Thank you (and for the +fave, too)! I think I could've done better, but I appreciate that I seem to have done something right, with two +faves so far. :)
d.m.f.
Thank you (and for the +fave, too)! I think I could've done better, but I appreciate that I seem to
Of course you think you can do better. ;p Every writer worth their salt think they could have done their stories better. As you now, it's a writer thing. ;p
Of course you think you can do better. ;p Every writer worth their salt think they could have done
Well, when a writer thinks he could have done it better, sometimes he's right, and sometimes he's wrong. At the very least, it can inspire him to greater and grander efforts, so obviously it isn't a bad thing.
Of course, sometimes the problem is that the writer occasionally overemphasizes or imagines some of those imperfections, whereupon it helps to have a fresh pair of eyes look over things, to see where the imperfections really are.
Well, when a writer thinks he could have done it better, sometimes he's right, and sometimes he's wr
That's precisely why I post my stories openly and not for profit. I prefer the feedback (rather than greenbacks) to encourage me to keep writing....especially when it makes someone smile, then I know I've done something right. :)
d.m.f.
That's precisely why I post my stories openly and not for profit. I prefer the feedback (rather tha
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