The Monster Who Hosted a Quiet Party

How it begins

Mossby Fern wanted a party.

He did not want a ROAR party.

He did not want a STOMP party.

He especially did not want the sort of party after which somebody asked where the table had gone.

Alma Glow found him sitting beside six tiny invitations.

'What kind of party?' she asked.

'A quiet one.'

The adult moth folded her soft wings.

'Lovely.'

'Will anyone come?'

'We could invite them and find out.'

Mossby delivered the invitations. His neighbors were delighted.

One offered a drum.

One offered two drums.

A third offered to knock down a dead tree at the exciting part.

'What exciting part?' Mossby asked.

'The part with the drums.'

Mossby went home and looked at his table. It had four excellent legs. He hoped to keep all of them.

Alma brought small lanterns made from fallen leaves. She hung them low enough to glow beneath the ferns.

'We need things to do,' Mossby said.

They tried listening to a shell. They watched a beetle cross a silver stone. They made the softest sound they could with one leaf.

Mossby's leaf sounded like a large creature trying very hard. Alma liked it best.

At dusk, the guests arrived. The drummer carried a drum just in case. The tree-knocker brought a hopeful expression.

Mossby stood beside his unbroken table.

'Tonight,' he said, 'we're trying small sounds.'

For a moment nobody knew what to do with their hands, paws or enormous feet.

Then Alma tapped a lantern stem. Ting.

Mossby rustled his leaf. Shuff.

A guest placed the drum on the ground and brushed it with one claw. Fff.

The sounds were so small that everyone leaned closer. The forest seemed to lean closer too.

Mossby smiled. Nothing had fallen over. Nobody had needed to become a different creature. They had simply discovered another way to be together, and there was still plenty of room on the table for cake.