First Love

Mityaï spilled into the corridor, looked around menacingly, and found a victim.

A gray mouse cowered against the wall, thinking it would run.

Not on your life!

You won’t get away from Mityaï.

The mouse froze in terror at the rough call; the boys moved after him, expecting entertainment.

Mityaï, in fact, hadn’t planned anything like that—he just wanted to scare her a bit and laugh while those flashing heels watched.

The gray mouse stood still, trying to merge with the wall, pushing forward some stupid little bag as if it intended to fight with it.

Mityaï came closer, and the mouse looked up at him.

Mityaï forgot how to breathe.