There is a mouse in my room.
Colour me unimpressed.
If I really wanted to, I'd use this mouse as a metaphor for everything that's pissing me off right now: small, invisible, hiding itself amongst all the books and movies and distracting crap I keep crammed in my room, robbing me of sleep and unsettling me just because I know it exists. I haven't seen the sonofabitch yet, so that adds to its insidiousness. I don't know if I'm afraid of mice, but I don't like the idea of someone living in my space, someone freeloading off my rent, without my permission.
As a metaphor, it upsets me. As vermin, it annoys me. Either way, I'll kill the fucker if it ever comes out. My policy on pest: Zero Tolerance.
Exterminatingly-yours,
Inari
If I were an animated cat, I would be...Dragon, from The Secret of NIMH. The one who ate Mrs. Brisby's husband.
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I was standing with my mom as she grazed her horse and behind me the grass shook - when I turned around, I saw Smokey the cat trotting, then walking, then stopping, then *pleh*. I told my mom he must have a rat. Then I saw how small the tail was and said "wait, look at the tail, it's a mouse". Then my mom squinted and looked and said "Two tails."
DOUBLE WHAMMY. I'll see if Smokey the Barn Cat makes house calls.
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