Epilogue.
For a moment, the world burned with the deepest orange before fading to blue. The little rat loved the dark, although his already blurred vision became all the more useless. His whiskers and nose did well to steer him in the right direction as he made sure to take the appropriate time to mourn the loss of the burning light’s rainbow. It did not matter that it would be back tomorrow: The specific moments he savored could never truly be repeated, simply recreated in a similar likeness.
The little rat squeaked with delight just thinking about it.
He did not wonder at just how many of those bright and colorful moments he had left, because such a thought served no purpose. There was no answer that could change the wonder he was so blessed to marvel at, leaving no reason to ask the question in the first place.
Despite its age, the rain and the wet hadn’t fully infiltrated his home. The beams he scurried across remained dry, the older ones occasionally creaking quietly, but respectfully, under his weight. He appeared to be in a great rush, finding himself back on the ground floor in far less time than it took him to leave it.
He exited the wall, running toward the study.
Pappappappappap!
The little rat heard the squeaking before he could make out his fellow little round shapes. Before him lay a carnival: several smaller rats fought playfully as those around them fed or curled themselves into one another as they slept. Although the little rat’s home was now dark, pale moonlight shone into the room through the tall, arched windows. As the moon rose, more and more of the sleeping little bodies began to stir.
Before long, the little rat found himself in the middle of the colony, squeaking enthusiastically. He fed on beetles that crawled their way across the walls of his home, as well as seeds that fell through broken windows from trees. Some of his meal even consisted of raspberries that had begun to grow across the house’s front stoop. As he ate with his friends in the home he loved, the little rat forgot the grief he’d felt thinking about his fleeting glance at the sun.
He did not hold still for long- none of them did. The little rat scurried about, pouncing on his companions and swishing his tail back and forth excitedly. He didn’t like to be alone and only did so at sunset. Although, as he played and squeaked and ran, he wished he could share all of his life with those around him.
If only they knew! If only they knew the wonders the house had for them, just waiting to be found! To be loved!
But wouldn’t it be cruel to disturb their sleep? No, maybe it was okay to keep such a treasure to himself. He would not force his choice on those he loved, and instead began to wonder what treasures he could possibly be missing out on.
His home did not love him less for not knowing all the marvels it had to offer, did not love his friends less for not knowing the beauty of the chandelier at sunset.
The little rat’s little feet pattered against the wooden floor, smooth and worn after years of those who came before him.In a sea of identical little noises, his own little pappappappappap! added to that legacy. Those who were to come after him would not know his unique squeaks or the way his specific feet sounded, but they would know their own, acting as a similar enough likeness.