The Demise of Mice

Marin almost asleep in bed.

Stirring, nursing, a sigh of contentment.

From the far end of the basement I hear a snap!

Rustles.

Rodent feet scurrying along the wooden shelves.

Sniffing.

A squeak.

Another snap.

Quiet.

Feet patter upstairs, but there is no more sound in the dark on my level.

Still quiet.

My headlight illuminates my path.

Bare feet walking silent along the cement.

Two grey furry bodies laying still in the pool of my light.

A feeling of sorrow and revulsion stir through me together.

I run upstairs to tell Seth.

My man will clean up the mess from the traps he set.

I love my man.

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3 thoughts on “The Demise of Mice”

  1. Is this the same gal in her nightgown who shot a rat down at the beach cottage behind the left shoulder because that’s where you hit a deer? Haha!

  2. Oh my, oh my! It is the same gal, though I wish my adventures with rodents would come to an end! Maybe I WILL start writing about the other adventures I have had with them.

    Glad you ladies got a good laugh!

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