Arab House of Sciences Publishers Faran Omy Hisa

Mice are no longer just hovering around the chicken cage under the Sidra. I slipped into the houses. I'd smell a sour, earthy smell, from which I don't know, if I lay on the living-room sofas. Although I have never seen a mouse inside the house, my mother Hessa confirms, that whenever she removes the sofa cushions, she reveals dark brown droppings about the size of grains of rice, and she says that they are mice... You don't have to see them to know that they are among us! I remember her promise. I remind her: “When will you tell me the story of the four mice?” Make a preoccupation with cleaning the place. She answers: "At night." Night comes, like every night. She takes off her dentures. She talks in the dark of her room. Introduction to the story: "Forger the son of starlings, who has never lied or sworn falsehood...".