  &nbsp; Returning to Nap’s cottage Dave succumbed to the tiredness that had crept upon him since he first arrived in Slumber Forest. He wasn’t used to running away from ravenous beasts or hiding from blood-sucking milkmen, and as far as he was concerned he wasn’t even up yet. Conceding defeat, he had asked Nap if it was possible for him to rest awhile and Nap, extending his generosity even further, directed Dave to his bedroom while he busied himself about the garden. &nbsp; Nap’s bedroom was the most aptly named room Dave had ever see as all it contained was a bed. No bedside table or wardrobe or chest of drawers. Nothing but a small and well-made bed.
Dave threw back the loose fitting over blanket and prepared to slip under the covers. &nbsp; “Oi ! What d’you think you’re playing at ?” someone shouted. &nbsp; Dave spun around, convinced that someone else must have entered the room after him, but there was no-one in sight. Feeling somewhat bemused, and a little angry, Dave nonetheless responded to the demand. &nbsp; &nbsp; “Where are you ?
I can’t see you ?” he asked of no-one in particular. &nbsp; “Just because you can’t see me it doesn’t give you the right to climb into bed with me. I mean, we haven’t even been introduced yet.” &nbsp; Again, Dave looked hard to find the owner of the voice, but this time he directed his search towards the bed. Yet again, Dave failed to see the questioner. &nbsp; “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve done anything to upset you, but I’ve had a trying day and I can’t see you and I really just want to get my head down for an hour or so. So, if you don’t mind, can you just show yourself and stop all this hide and seek nonsense ?” &nbsp; “Oh it’s nonsense now is it ?” said the voice, now sounding even more irked.
“How would you like it if someone just strolled into your bedroom and climbed into your bed - while you were having a nap ? Bet you wouldn’t just say “On you go mate, help yourself” and fetch them a glass of milk. Or maybe you would ? Maybe where you come from bed raiding happens all the time ? I mean looking at you, you’re obviously not from around here so who knows what passes for manners where you come from.” &nbsp; Dave had now had enough and demanded that the irked voice assign itself to a visible entity. &nbsp; “I’m not carrying on this argument until you show yourself !
I’ve had just about enough for one day and I’m not in the mood to play any more stupid games” he barked. &nbsp; “Ooo, touchy. OK then, seeing as you’re obviously a bit deficient in the eyesight department maybe this’ll help ?” &nbsp; Suddenly Dave was thrown back against the door and the air from his lungs was expelled into what was left of the room as it either contracted in size or was filled by something which was rapidly expanding like an inflating balloon in a cardboard box. It turned out to be closer to the latter explanation when Dave managed to recover his breath and squint around. &nbsp; “I think I preferred it when you were invisible” he managed to mutter. &nbsp; “I told you already.
I wasn’t invisible, you just couldn’t see me.” &nbsp; “Same difference. I still can’t see you” replied Dave as he tried to prise himself from the wall and squeeze himself into some space nearer the floor.&nbsp; &nbsp; “There’s just no pleasing some people. How about this then ?” &nbsp; &nbsp; And Dave felt fell on his face, spread-eagled upon the floor like...a spread eagle, only with trousers and without wings. Or a beak. Or talons. Eventually, Dave raised his head enough to find a pair of feet inches from his nose.
His eyes continued to travel upwards and he could see that the feet were attached to a pair of short, stubby legs. Raising himself up by his hands, Dave clambered to his feet and at last came face to face with his tormentor. &nbsp; “Hi. I’m Til. What’s your name ?” &nbsp; Dave took a second or two to look Til up and down. It didn’t take that long as Til was only around 4 feet tall.
Dave noticed that the clothes Til was wearing were an exact match for his own. &nbsp; “I’m Dave. Snap” said Dave. &nbsp; “Davesnap ? Nice name” replied Til. &nbsp; “No, it’s just Dave.” &nbsp; “So why did you just say it was Davesnap then ?” &nbsp; “I didn’t.
My name’s Dave - just Dave. When I said Snap I meant we were wearing the same clothes ?” explained Dave. &nbsp; “No we’re not” insisted Til. &nbsp; “Yes we are” disagreed Dave. “Look” and he displayed his shirt and trousers and boots to Til to emphasise his point. &nbsp; “They’re not the same clothes.
They’re similar” said Til. &nbsp; “Well obviously they’re not the same clothes. You know what I meant though” said Dave almost sarcastically, if it was possible to be almost sarcastic. If there are different levels of sarcasm then this was a 1.7 on the Cleverdick Scale. &nbsp; “You should never assume that you know what someone else is thinking. Unless you’re a mind-reader of course.
I’m guessing here, but I don’t think you’re a mind-reader” said Til with an assured air which Dave found slightly annoying. “I mean, where would we be if everyone assumed they knew what everyone else was thinking ?&nbsp; There’d be no need for words or gestures or communication. You wouldn’t be able to have random thoughts, or wish bad luck on someone who’d just bought the last of your favourite cakes from the shop, or...” &nbsp; “I get the point” interjected Dave. “You’re wearing similar clothes to mine. Not the same. Happy now ?” &nbsp; &nbsp; “Moderately.
It’d take more than a simple agreement on the true meanings of words to boost my satisfaction quotient I’m afraid.” &nbsp; Dave raised his right hand to his brow and shook his head. &nbsp; “Unbelievable” he muttered under his breath. “Look” he said, “can we just forget the last little exchange and start again ?” &nbsp; “If only that were possible” started Til, until he spotted Dave glaring at him. “OK” he agreed suddenly. &nbsp; Relieved to be back on something akin to a level footing, Dave attempted to start again. &nbsp; “So, how come I couldn’t see you before ?” he asked.
&nbsp; “I was sleeping” replied Til matter-of-factly. &nbsp; “You were sleeping” repeated Dave. “And how is that supposed to answer my question ?” &nbsp; “Well, when I’m having a nap or a snooze or whatever it’s to conserve my energy and the best way to do that is to make myself as small as possible so I change into something like an insect or a mouse before I get under the covers” explained Til. &nbsp; “You can do that ?” Dave said incredulously. &nbsp; “I just told you didn’t I ?” &nbsp; Dave was rapidly realising that Til was very pedantic about the use, or misuse, of words. &nbsp; “Anyway, as I was saying.
When I’m sleeping I’m really small and I was under the covers so that’s why you couldn’t see me. I wasn’t invisible - you just weren’t looking hard enough. Then, when you got a bit angry I made myself a bit bigger.”“A bit bigger ? You can see that again” Dave said. &nbsp; “Why ?” asked Til. &nbsp; “Forget it.
I didn’t mean it” and Dave made a mental note to be more careful in future. &nbsp;“So” continued Dave, “have you always been able to make yourself smaller and&nbsp;&nbsp; bigger - or did someone teach you ?” &nbsp; Til looked at Dave with an expression that made Dave think he was the stupidest man alive. Perhaps he was - at least in Til’s eyes anyway. &nbsp; “No” replied Til, very slowly and carefully as though he was speaking to the stupidest man in the world, “we can all do it. It’s a natural thing, just like the way some folk can wiggle their ears, and other’s can make themselves invisible. I’m sure even someone like you has a....talent.” &nbsp; The long pause before Til settled on the word `talent’ only served to emphasise Dave’s discomfort.
He felt just like someone who had been offered a seat next to a man in a turban only to discover that the kind-hearted gentleman was a fakir and the `seat’ consisted of several dozen closely grouped six-inch nails. &nbsp; “Well no-one I know can do it” was the best Dave could come up with at short notice. To be truthful, even if Dave had been given several weeks notice of Til’s question he would have been hard-pushed to come up with anything better. “When you said “we”, does that mean Nap can do it too ?” &nbsp; “Nap ? Of course he can’t” guffawed Til, making absolutely no attempt to rein in how laughable he found Dave’s question. &nbsp; “I only asked” mumbled Dave.
&nbsp; “Sorry” said Til as he wiped a tear from his eye, “best laugh I’ve had in ages.” &nbsp; “Oh good” said Dave defiantly folding his arms across his chest, “I’m so glad to have brought some joy into your world. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get some rest before we set off for Lottie’s house.” &nbsp; Til suddenly lost his sense of humour. It was so lost that even the most experienced pot-holer rescue team would be unable to locate it, so far had it sunk beneath the surface. &nbsp; “Not Mad Lottie ?” Til asked apprehensively. &nbsp; “I prefer to call her Lottie myself but yes, I believe that’s the woman in question.” &nbsp; “But why would anyone in their right mind want to go and see that crazy old bird ?” &nbsp;Til uttered the words and then looked at Dave and Dave looked at Til and didn’t like the way he was now looking at him. Til appeared to have an answer to Dave’s question - an answer that Dave felt would show him in a very poor light.
A light so poor that lump of coal covered in dust and trampled beneath the dust of a cellar would&nbsp;&nbsp; be more illuminating. 
