On the
first day of the Summer Semester of 2017, I walked into my English 203 class
with a rat in my purse – well a furry toy equivalent of a mouse, to be exact.
In an attempt to make their first session memorable, I asked my students to
assume this mouse was a real mouse, with a real active and busy lifestyle. They
were then supposed to describe to me, in a short paragraph, who it really was
that we were looking at it: What was this mouse’s name? Where did it go? What
sorts of things did it like? What did it hate? What did it do to earn a living?
To have fun? There were no rules, and as I was soon to discover from my
students, no limit to what a mouse can do, apparently – if only we
imagine hard enough:
Below are
snippets from three especially creative students of mine:
by Anthony Mrad:
This
little rat’s name is Bob. He’s one of a kind because of his voice. In fact, he
barks every time he’s hungry, happy, or sad. I’m sure you know his friend
Ratatouille: they are both great cooks. He’s from Japan and is the 780th child
in his family. The most amazing thing about Bob is that even though he is 82
years old, he’s still as active and energetic as his son Juan and they go
together to the gym regularly. He’s been cheating on his wife Bella for 12
years but she doesn’t complain because she is so afraid of him barking at her.
He also painted his nose red in honor of his childhood hero Rudolf who died
several years ago. Bob is just an amazing little cute rat.
by Dimitri
Saad:
It was in my darkest hour that Donald showed up at my
doorstep. I was frightened seeing him stand there and wiggle his tail for hours
nonstop, which he often does when he feels cold. The sombre and dim scene only
brightened up his wide scary eyes even more. It turned out that this vigilante
mouse had come to seek justice. Laughing ignorantly, I tried to shove him out
of my home but this only further triggered his explosive red nose in the
process. I then passed out. When I woke up, I realized I was tied to a bed by
means of mousetraps. I screamed in agony until Donald flew in using his
aerodynamically modified fur, which makes his flight easier and smoother.
Nothing made sense. Donald offered me some cat meat, as he was ironically allergic
to cheese. The teenager then explained that he was a rat who desired to
become a mouse so badly. So, he followed mouse customs, married a female
French mouse named Theodora, and even had offspring with her. Despite the expenses
of having to buy cat meat instead of cheese, his life was going well, up until
his family were killed by rat poison. It was I who murdered his family. I
shamefully apologized but he refused to show me any mercy. I begged and pleaded
for my life and freedom; however, since he was a former cop, he decided to play
judge, jury, and executioner. He took my life without ever looking back. It was
then that he became known as the evil rat/mouse-wannabe-human/killer/vigilante:
Donald Trump.
by Michael El Moualem:
Meet Tony:
Unlike his friends, he doesn’t really have much of an appetite,
he hates cheese too, so he isn’t worried about any traps.
His nose is red and quite bright
but unlike Rudolph, no light.
His friends all have legs but he’s happy with his wheels,
only rough floors really grind his gears.
Humans wind him up a lot but he’s ok,
soon as they put him down he scurries away.
Straight away he goes, no twisting or turning
if you see him you’d think that the floor was burning.
“Gotta go fast or I’ll end up in jail,
don’t forget to tell them about my crazy tail!”.
As he runs off his tail writhes and wriggles,
all he leaves is a fading giggle.
The beginning of every college semester,
marks the best time of the year for this beady eyed critter.
Mrs. Jessy prepares his breakfast in bed,
always his favorite, chocolate corn bread.
A few minutes later they hop in the car
and he’s more than ready for his day as the star.
Off to AUB, where he’ll meet some new friends,
he’s more than comfortable in that shiny new Benz.
As he enters the classroom he’s always frantic and shy,
everyone’s excited to meet the little guy.
All these new faces, his little brain took its time,
just long enough for me to write this silly rhyme.
And now, dear reader, it is *your* turn! What is *your* make-believe mouse like? Is he a coroner,
astrophysicist, or botanist? Can he play the flute or do cartwheels? Does he
take the flying carpet to work or does he prefer the metro so he can nap while blasting
away Freddie Mercury on his headphones on his way to get a massage? Let your
imagination scurry along and share your story in the
comments below!
