In a remote age, forgotten even by the last human being, an age whose only presence was represented by plants unknown to us, by tall rocks, higher than our buildings, by dunes of sand, and by buildings whose spectres were solid on the ground.
In the middle of a barren and bare land there was a palace, adorned with silver leaves and marble columns so smooth that through them we can see a face, a face a little funny and a little clumsy, the face of a sweet little mouse, all intent with a long flute on intoning a music with sweet, delicate, almost ethereal notes.
The little mouse, like every day, after concluding the music headed for the great hall of the palace, where there were delicacies of all kinds, illuminated by golden candles, and the whole room was filled with a scent of berries.
After filling up quite well, he went to his room, very small and sweet, like him, sat on the bed and looked out the window, the purple sand seemed to move almost like the sea and the purple waves seemed to ripple on the ancient walls, which now were just a reminder of what was once the home of powerful queens and immortal heroes.
The little mouse pondered and pondered, on what, we do not know, but certainly all that sand that surrounded him somehow reminded him of the vastness of all, and the absolute silence in which both the palace and the sand were soaked.
Those waves that went back and forth, he tried and tried to imitate them, he moved his tiny hands on the flute with swaying, almost watery movements, and the sparkling notes that were coming out from it echoed in all the rooms, the palace turned into a ballroom, and outside the wind seemed to accompany him, to dance with him.
While he was intent on playing, his little eyes peered at a tiny speck in the sand, so curiously he rushed out and saw a small being, all curled up in a small shell and from which two small antennae protruded.
The mouse looked at the snail intrigued, he had never seen one, while her whole head came out of that small shell, which scanned that being so much taller than her, and perhaps moved by curiosity began to climb on the flute, it was so funny to see her move in between the holes, but after a while she fell and the mouse caught her in time and put her back on the ground.
The little snail began to walk and moved by curiosity he began to follow her, beyond the borders of the sands.
They arrived in front of a staircase, in the middle of an emerald-green meadow, and still following her he climbed the steps, one by one, until reaching the top, another large meadow surrounded by poppies, even though they were not the only thing present, because further ahead there was a temple, a little corroded by the petals but still a great and massive temple.
The two decided to get in, even though he was not so convinced, while she was enthusiastic, it was as if she wanted to show him this place.
It was damp inside and the droplets from the ceiling occasionally landed on his shoulders, while she simply re-entered her shell, her home.
They walked through paintings of important people, people who had changed history, history, yes, but only of the human species, he was still intrigued to see these faces, so different from his and also different from each other, but she did not seem so much interested, even though she was occasionally seen giggle, perhaps some faces seemed to her amusing.
They crossed the corridor and in the end what they found surprised both of them, a large glass bowl with a huge goldfish wallowing inside, and next to them a huge cat, with a brown coat and a large white stain on its face.
Came down from the ceiling some scales, on which were placed on a balance wheels a feather and a sack full of glittering coins.
The cat invited them to choose either one or the other, he first felt the feather, soft and fluffy, whose whiteness shone on the water of the bowl, she immersed herself among the coins, you could feel them touch them, they jangled.
He took a coin and tasted it, he did not like it, the metal has perhaps been made too bitter by rust, she went onto the soft feather and laughed, the soft fabric tickled her.
An enormous light struck her, marking the opening of the rock in front of them, and always intrigued, the little mouse and the little snail crossed that big ash-coloured door, they saw a huge sky whose mantle was studded with small stars.
He was amazed, she laughed, she was so cute seeing her smile with those little eyes.
The door closed them in that meadow surmounted by that pitch black studded with small diamonds, and since it seemed clear to her that they could not get out of here, she climbed on the long flute as if to invite him to play, and he, inspired by the stars, played, the music was eternal, as eternal was her smile, and every day, in there, they took a little moment, sitting next to each other, to rebehold the stars.
