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Outside, the bone of the moon glows, but within, we lie, destroyed in the dark. The little monster got away again.
Now I’m not one to think irrationally, but this little freaker defies everything. How the hell could it have escaped again? And what the hell has it chewed through to take out the sodding power?
Perhaps it’s because it’s four a.m. that I’m struggling to deal with this, or perhaps it really is the Antichrist?
It was about an hour ago that I woke. Or should that be it was about an hour ago that I was viscously shaken into consciousness by a screaming harpy that at a more sociable hour I’d call my wife.
“Mouse! Kitchen! Get it! Now!” These were the words that came from her mouth, over and again as she shook me, my head rolling around like a nodding dog. Like my alarm clock, she got louder and louder with each rendition of the chant – but there was no snooze button. Realising I had woken, she threw my legs off of the bed and pushed me upright. I picked a towel from the radiator to cover myself up, not for the benefit of the mouse, you understand, but in case I caught it and had to take it outside. The red glow of the alarm clock informed me that it was early, but too early to properly make out the numbers. I wasn’t the best at waking mornings, and it seemed that the middle of the night was no easier. I took a second look at the clock, it’s red face trying to tell me something, and not get back to bed, but the figures all merged into one. I rubbed my eyes, and got a boot up the behind for my troubles.
“Go! Now! Mouse! Quick!” Louise pointed to the door, as if I didn’t know the way to the kitchen. I stumbled towards the door, sliding into my slippers on the way. I pushed the door open, and was greeted with a click, and more darkness. I looked to the bathroom, and the light was out. I looked back into the bathroom, beyond the creature wildly waving it’s arms at me, and the alarm clock was also out. Not only did I have the mouse to deal with (and at this moment I wasn’t even convinced that it was real), I was going to have to go trip the bloody switch to get the power back on. Not that that would be of any great difficulty, it was just in a cupboard in the kitchen, it was just it was in that cupboard that we rarely go it. I’m sure you have one in your own house, the place that time forgot, a secret portal into which all manner of junk appears. No doubt I’d have to pull out all kinds of crap to get to the bloody fuse box.
Anyway, I hadn’t yet reached the kitchen, I was still making my way through the hall, one hand on the wall to guide me. I stopped at the cabinet, and pulled it open. For once, organisation had defeated chaos, and my torch was exactly where I expected to find it, next to the gin and under a couple of newspapers. I grabbed the torch and flicked the switch. And the Lord said ‘Let there be…’ oh cluck, the batteries have gone. Yep, my night was going from bad to worse. Bad was having to get out of bed for any reason before seven, worse was actually having to think about things. Finding thoughts hard to come by, other than the constant ‘back to bed’ – I swear I had a devil appear on my shoulder, telling me to say I’d already got rid of it, I decided to head into the kitchen unarmed.
First impressions told me that there was nothing in there. It was dark, I couldn’t see anything therefore there is nothing. Logic wins, back to bed. But no, the power was out, and I needed to get my alarm clock back on, or once again I’d be late. I pulled the blind open, and light poured in. I looked out at the moon, so full, so bright, my saviour! I could see the floor, the table, and God damn she was right, a pile of torn up tissue. I went to it, and if that wasn’t proof enough, the tiny black deposits around it confirmed it. I acted swiftly, grabbing the mop from against the wall and thrusting it under the table, into the corners. I could hear scurrying, towards the door. With dexterity that would impress a Hollywood director, I swung the mop, and pushed it at the door, knocking it closed. I pulled it back, grabbed a tea-towel from the sink with the other end, and rammed in up against the door, blocking any escape. I couldn’t think of a pithy one-liner to follow this up, and was a little disappointed, but then again, there was no one else there to hear it, so I guess I’ll save that for another day.
I’d stopped it leaving the room, I’d seen it do a sharp turn as I’d closed the door, but where it had gone, I couldn’t be sure. I needed light, and that’s what the fuse box would give me. I opened the cupboard door, it was dark, being under the window, and as I suspected, full of crap. I pulled out several lumps of wood, and some Tupperware, none of it had I seen before. I reached in towards the fuse box, and felt it run beneath my towel. Mr Mouse, meet Mr Manhood. I could have ended it all just my sitting down at that point, but having squashed mouse guts on the underside of my testicles didn’t appeal, and the prospect of a nibbled nob got me to my feet in record time. My handy mop was close at hand, and once more it went on the attack, searching the floor for our tiny opponent, and once more I lost track of it.
I’d come too close to an injury to my important parts, and made a few changes to how I wore the towel. I pulled it through my legs and tied it at either side, like a massive nappy. Back in the cupboard, I again fumbled for the fuse-box, but every time I ventured in, I thought I could hear it coming for me. I looked around as best I could, decided it was clear, and went in. I pulled the door to the fuse box open, and felt for the switches. I thought I could hear it coming again, started to move out, then thought I was being daft. I reached for the switches again when it felt it run over my foot. I pulled out, and tried to stand at the same time, catching the back of my head on the cupboard. I felt dizzy, and reached for something to steady myself. I grabbed a cord, and the blind closed in front of me. I panicked, grabbed my mob, swinging it around. I could hear it, squeaking, scurrying, taunting me. I couldn’t see a thing, I reached back for the blind-cord again just as it ran over my foot once more. I jumped and swung the mop at the same time, the back end caught something by the sink, and I tried to pull it away, only to bring it full into my face. I fell backwards, grabbing at something, anything to try to stop myself, and pulled the washing rack on top of me, plates and all. I lay, motionless in the dark, when I hear a shout.
“Have you got it? James? Are you okay?”
I don’t reply, and moments later I heard the door move slightly. Of course, in my earlier action I’d put the tea-towel beneath the door. There was a bang on the door as Louise tried to push it open, and it didn’t budge, so she had another go, and came tumbling into the room, falling on the mop that I let fly as I fell. She fell on top of me, and screamed. I look round, and there it is, facing us as we lay in a heap. I grabbed something from the wreckage I was part of, it felt like a broken plate, and an expensive one too. I flung it towards the mouse, and off it ran again. Hopping up into the cupboard by the fuse box.
Outside, the bone of the moon glows, but within, we lie, destroyed in the dark. I’m wearing a massive nappy, and that bloody mouse lies between me, and getting the lights back on. I’m not going to get any sleep until this is fixed, I’m going to be late to work in the morning, and worse still, I’m going to have to spend the weekend shopping for new dinner-plates.
Tonight I have met with a true monster, he is small and furry, but don’t let that fool you, for he is the epitome of evil.
Now I’m not one to think irrationally, but this little freaker defies everything. How the hell could it have escaped again? And what the hell has it chewed through to take out the sodding power?
Perhaps it’s because it’s four a.m. that I’m struggling to deal with this, or perhaps it really is the Antichrist?
It was about an hour ago that I woke. Or should that be it was about an hour ago that I was viscously shaken into consciousness by a screaming harpy that at a more sociable hour I’d call my wife.
“Mouse! Kitchen! Get it! Now!” These were the words that came from her mouth, over and again as she shook me, my head rolling around like a nodding dog. Like my alarm clock, she got louder and louder with each rendition of the chant – but there was no snooze button. Realising I had woken, she threw my legs off of the bed and pushed me upright. I picked a towel from the radiator to cover myself up, not for the benefit of the mouse, you understand, but in case I caught it and had to take it outside. The red glow of the alarm clock informed me that it was early, but too early to properly make out the numbers. I wasn’t the best at waking mornings, and it seemed that the middle of the night was no easier. I took a second look at the clock, it’s red face trying to tell me something, and not get back to bed, but the figures all merged into one. I rubbed my eyes, and got a boot up the behind for my troubles.
“Go! Now! Mouse! Quick!” Louise pointed to the door, as if I didn’t know the way to the kitchen. I stumbled towards the door, sliding into my slippers on the way. I pushed the door open, and was greeted with a click, and more darkness. I looked to the bathroom, and the light was out. I looked back into the bathroom, beyond the creature wildly waving it’s arms at me, and the alarm clock was also out. Not only did I have the mouse to deal with (and at this moment I wasn’t even convinced that it was real), I was going to have to go trip the bloody switch to get the power back on. Not that that would be of any great difficulty, it was just in a cupboard in the kitchen, it was just it was in that cupboard that we rarely go it. I’m sure you have one in your own house, the place that time forgot, a secret portal into which all manner of junk appears. No doubt I’d have to pull out all kinds of crap to get to the bloody fuse box.
Anyway, I hadn’t yet reached the kitchen, I was still making my way through the hall, one hand on the wall to guide me. I stopped at the cabinet, and pulled it open. For once, organisation had defeated chaos, and my torch was exactly where I expected to find it, next to the gin and under a couple of newspapers. I grabbed the torch and flicked the switch. And the Lord said ‘Let there be…’ oh cluck, the batteries have gone. Yep, my night was going from bad to worse. Bad was having to get out of bed for any reason before seven, worse was actually having to think about things. Finding thoughts hard to come by, other than the constant ‘back to bed’ – I swear I had a devil appear on my shoulder, telling me to say I’d already got rid of it, I decided to head into the kitchen unarmed.
First impressions told me that there was nothing in there. It was dark, I couldn’t see anything therefore there is nothing. Logic wins, back to bed. But no, the power was out, and I needed to get my alarm clock back on, or once again I’d be late. I pulled the blind open, and light poured in. I looked out at the moon, so full, so bright, my saviour! I could see the floor, the table, and God damn she was right, a pile of torn up tissue. I went to it, and if that wasn’t proof enough, the tiny black deposits around it confirmed it. I acted swiftly, grabbing the mop from against the wall and thrusting it under the table, into the corners. I could hear scurrying, towards the door. With dexterity that would impress a Hollywood director, I swung the mop, and pushed it at the door, knocking it closed. I pulled it back, grabbed a tea-towel from the sink with the other end, and rammed in up against the door, blocking any escape. I couldn’t think of a pithy one-liner to follow this up, and was a little disappointed, but then again, there was no one else there to hear it, so I guess I’ll save that for another day.
I’d stopped it leaving the room, I’d seen it do a sharp turn as I’d closed the door, but where it had gone, I couldn’t be sure. I needed light, and that’s what the fuse box would give me. I opened the cupboard door, it was dark, being under the window, and as I suspected, full of crap. I pulled out several lumps of wood, and some Tupperware, none of it had I seen before. I reached in towards the fuse box, and felt it run beneath my towel. Mr Mouse, meet Mr Manhood. I could have ended it all just my sitting down at that point, but having squashed mouse guts on the underside of my testicles didn’t appeal, and the prospect of a nibbled nob got me to my feet in record time. My handy mop was close at hand, and once more it went on the attack, searching the floor for our tiny opponent, and once more I lost track of it.
I’d come too close to an injury to my important parts, and made a few changes to how I wore the towel. I pulled it through my legs and tied it at either side, like a massive nappy. Back in the cupboard, I again fumbled for the fuse-box, but every time I ventured in, I thought I could hear it coming for me. I looked around as best I could, decided it was clear, and went in. I pulled the door to the fuse box open, and felt for the switches. I thought I could hear it coming again, started to move out, then thought I was being daft. I reached for the switches again when it felt it run over my foot. I pulled out, and tried to stand at the same time, catching the back of my head on the cupboard. I felt dizzy, and reached for something to steady myself. I grabbed a cord, and the blind closed in front of me. I panicked, grabbed my mob, swinging it around. I could hear it, squeaking, scurrying, taunting me. I couldn’t see a thing, I reached back for the blind-cord again just as it ran over my foot once more. I jumped and swung the mop at the same time, the back end caught something by the sink, and I tried to pull it away, only to bring it full into my face. I fell backwards, grabbing at something, anything to try to stop myself, and pulled the washing rack on top of me, plates and all. I lay, motionless in the dark, when I hear a shout.
“Have you got it? James? Are you okay?”
I don’t reply, and moments later I heard the door move slightly. Of course, in my earlier action I’d put the tea-towel beneath the door. There was a bang on the door as Louise tried to push it open, and it didn’t budge, so she had another go, and came tumbling into the room, falling on the mop that I let fly as I fell. She fell on top of me, and screamed. I look round, and there it is, facing us as we lay in a heap. I grabbed something from the wreckage I was part of, it felt like a broken plate, and an expensive one too. I flung it towards the mouse, and off it ran again. Hopping up into the cupboard by the fuse box.
Outside, the bone of the moon glows, but within, we lie, destroyed in the dark. I’m wearing a massive nappy, and that bloody mouse lies between me, and getting the lights back on. I’m not going to get any sleep until this is fixed, I’m going to be late to work in the morning, and worse still, I’m going to have to spend the weekend shopping for new dinner-plates.
Tonight I have met with a true monster, he is small and furry, but don’t let that fool you, for he is the epitome of evil.
Oh that was wonderful, a true joy :D
Thanks guys, your encouraging words improve me.
I love it. Totally believable and so entertaining too.
Took me by the first word and held me tight till the end, awesome stuff Meka, makes me want to write again.
Ruffled wonder.
You write too much excellent stuff.
Not that I'm complaining in the slightest.
You write too much excellent stuff.
Not that I'm complaining in the slightest.
Wonderuffle.
...
Yup.
...
Yup.
:-)
By the by Frosty, if you thought that THIS story was long...
you aint seen nuttin'! ;-D
By the by Frosty, if you thought that THIS story was long...
you aint seen nuttin'! ;-D
Another... long story.
*sigh* People always post stories at the least convenient times - I'll read it when I get back in tomorrow mate - Please check mine (Fast food) out.
Outside, the bone of the moon glows, but within, we lie, destroyed in the dark. The little monster got away again.
Now I’m not one to think irrationally, but this little freaker defies everything. How the hell could it have escaped again? And what the hell has it chewed through to take out the sodding power?
Perhaps it’s because it’s four a.m. that I’m struggling to deal with this, or perhaps it really is the Antichrist?
It was about an hour ago that I woke. Or should that be it was about an hour ago that I was viscously shaken into consciousness by a screaming harpy that at a more sociable hour I’d call my wife.
“Mouse! Kitchen! Get it! Now!” These were the words that came from her mouth, over and again as she shook me, my head rolling around like a nodding dog. Like my alarm clock, she got louder and louder with each rendition of the chant – but there was no snooze button. Realising I had woken, she threw my legs off of the bed and pushed me upright. I picked a towel from the radiator to cover myself up, not for the benefit of the mouse, you understand, but in case I caught it and had to take it outside. The red glow of the alarm clock informed me that it was early, but too early to properly make out the numbers. I wasn’t the best at waking mornings, and it seemed that the middle of the night was no easier. I took a second look at the clock, it’s red face trying to tell me something, and not get back to bed, but the figures all merged into one. I rubbed my eyes, and got a boot up the behind for my troubles.
“Go! Now! Mouse! Quick!” Louise pointed to the door, as if I didn’t know the way to the kitchen. I stumbled towards the door, sliding into my slippers on the way. I pushed the door open, and was greeted with a click, and more darkness. I looked to the bathroom, and the light was out. I looked back into the bathroom, beyond the creature wildly waving it’s arms at me, and the alarm clock was also out. Not only did I have the mouse to deal with (and at this moment I wasn’t even convinced that it was real), I was going to have to go trip the bloody switch to get the power back on. Not that that would be of any great difficulty, it was just in a cupboard in the kitchen, it was just it was in that cupboard that we rarely go it. I’m sure you have one in your own house, the place that time forgot, a secret portal into which all manner of junk appears. No doubt I’d have to pull out all kinds of crap to get to the bloody fuse box.
Anyway, I hadn’t yet reached the kitchen, I was still making my way through the hall, one hand on the wall to guide me. I stopped at the cabinet, and pulled it open. For once, organisation had defeated chaos, and my torch was exactly where I expected to find it, next to the gin and under a couple of newspapers. I grabbed the torch and flicked the switch. And the Lord said ‘Let there be…’ oh cluck, the batteries have gone. Yep, my night was going from bad to worse. Bad was having to get out of bed for any reason before seven, worse was actually having to think about things. Finding thoughts hard to come by, other than the constant ‘back to bed’ – I swear I had a devil appear on my shoulder, telling me to say I’d already got rid of it, I decided to head into the kitchen unarmed.
First impressions told me that there was nothing in there. It was dark, I couldn’t see anything therefore there is nothing. Logic wins, back to bed. But no, the power was out, and I needed to get my alarm clock back on, or once again I’d be late. I pulled the blind open, and light poured in. I looked out at the moon, so full, so bright, my saviour! I could see the floor, the table, and God damn she was right, a pile of torn up tissue. I went to it, and if that wasn’t proof enough, the tiny black deposits around it confirmed it. I acted swiftly, grabbing the mop from against the wall and thrusting it under the table, into the corners. I could hear scurrying, towards the door. With dexterity that would impress a Hollywood director, I swung the mop, and pushed it at the door, knocking it closed. I pulled it back, grabbed a tea-towel from the sink with the other end, and rammed in up against the door, blocking any escape. I couldn’t think of a pithy one-liner to follow this up, and was a little disappointed, but then again, there was no one else there to hear it, so I guess I’ll save that for another day.
I’d stopped it leaving the room, I’d seen it do a sharp turn as I’d closed the door, but where it had gone, I couldn’t be sure. I needed light, and that’s what the fuse box would give me. I opened the cupboard door, it was dark, being under the window, and as I suspected, full of crap. I pulled out several lumps of wood, and some Tupperware, none of it had I seen before. I reached in towards the fuse box, and felt it run beneath my towel. Mr Mouse, meet Mr Manhood. I could have ended it all just my sitting down at that point, but having squashed mouse guts on the underside of my testicles didn’t appeal, and the prospect of a nibbled nob got me to my feet in record time. My handy mop was close at hand, and once more it went on the attack, searching the floor for our tiny opponent, and once more I lost track of it.
I’d come too close to an injury to my important parts, and made a few changes to how I wore the towel. I pulled it through my legs and tied it at either side, like a massive nappy. Back in the cupboard, I again fumbled for the fuse-box, but every time I ventured in, I thought I could hear it coming for me. I looked around as best I could, decided it was clear, and went in. I pulled the door to the fuse box open, and felt for the switches. I thought I could hear it coming again, started to move out, then thought I was being daft. I reached for the switches again when it felt it run over my foot. I pulled out, and tried to stand at the same time, catching the back of my head on the cupboard. I felt dizzy, and reached for something to steady myself. I grabbed a cord, and the blind closed in front of me. I panicked, grabbed my mob, swinging it around. I could hear it, squeaking, scurrying, taunting me. I couldn’t see a thing, I reached back for the blind-cord again just as it ran over my foot once more. I jumped and swung the mop at the same time, the back end caught something by the sink, and I tried to pull it away, only to bring it full into my face. I fell backwards, grabbing at something, anything to try to stop myself, and pulled the washing rack on top of me, plates and all. I lay, motionless in the dark, when I hear a shout.
“Have you got it? James? Are you okay?”
I don’t reply, and moments later I heard the door move slightly. Of course, in my earlier action I’d put the tea-towel beneath the door. There was a bang on the door as Louise tried to push it open, and it didn’t budge, so she had another go, and came tumbling into the room, falling on the mop that I let fly as I fell. She fell on top of me, and screamed. I look round, and there it is, facing us as we lay in a heap. I grabbed something from the wreckage I was part of, it felt like a broken plate, and an expensive one too. I flung it towards the mouse, and off it ran again. Hopping up into the cupboard by the fuse box.
Outside, the bone of the moon glows, but within, we lie, destroyed in the dark. I’m wearing a massive nappy, and that bloody mouse lies between me, and getting the lights back on. I’m not going to get any sleep until this is fixed, I’m going to be late to work in the morning, and worse still, I’m going to have to spend the weekend shopping for new dinner-plates.
Tonight I have met with a true monster, he is small and furry, but don’t let that fool you, for he is the epitome of evil.
Now I’m not one to think irrationally, but this little freaker defies everything. How the hell could it have escaped again? And what the hell has it chewed through to take out the sodding power?
Perhaps it’s because it’s four a.m. that I’m struggling to deal with this, or perhaps it really is the Antichrist?
It was about an hour ago that I woke. Or should that be it was about an hour ago that I was viscously shaken into consciousness by a screaming harpy that at a more sociable hour I’d call my wife.
“Mouse! Kitchen! Get it! Now!” These were the words that came from her mouth, over and again as she shook me, my head rolling around like a nodding dog. Like my alarm clock, she got louder and louder with each rendition of the chant – but there was no snooze button. Realising I had woken, she threw my legs off of the bed and pushed me upright. I picked a towel from the radiator to cover myself up, not for the benefit of the mouse, you understand, but in case I caught it and had to take it outside. The red glow of the alarm clock informed me that it was early, but too early to properly make out the numbers. I wasn’t the best at waking mornings, and it seemed that the middle of the night was no easier. I took a second look at the clock, it’s red face trying to tell me something, and not get back to bed, but the figures all merged into one. I rubbed my eyes, and got a boot up the behind for my troubles.
“Go! Now! Mouse! Quick!” Louise pointed to the door, as if I didn’t know the way to the kitchen. I stumbled towards the door, sliding into my slippers on the way. I pushed the door open, and was greeted with a click, and more darkness. I looked to the bathroom, and the light was out. I looked back into the bathroom, beyond the creature wildly waving it’s arms at me, and the alarm clock was also out. Not only did I have the mouse to deal with (and at this moment I wasn’t even convinced that it was real), I was going to have to go trip the bloody switch to get the power back on. Not that that would be of any great difficulty, it was just in a cupboard in the kitchen, it was just it was in that cupboard that we rarely go it. I’m sure you have one in your own house, the place that time forgot, a secret portal into which all manner of junk appears. No doubt I’d have to pull out all kinds of crap to get to the bloody fuse box.
Anyway, I hadn’t yet reached the kitchen, I was still making my way through the hall, one hand on the wall to guide me. I stopped at the cabinet, and pulled it open. For once, organisation had defeated chaos, and my torch was exactly where I expected to find it, next to the gin and under a couple of newspapers. I grabbed the torch and flicked the switch. And the Lord said ‘Let there be…’ oh cluck, the batteries have gone. Yep, my night was going from bad to worse. Bad was having to get out of bed for any reason before seven, worse was actually having to think about things. Finding thoughts hard to come by, other than the constant ‘back to bed’ – I swear I had a devil appear on my shoulder, telling me to say I’d already got rid of it, I decided to head into the kitchen unarmed.
First impressions told me that there was nothing in there. It was dark, I couldn’t see anything therefore there is nothing. Logic wins, back to bed. But no, the power was out, and I needed to get my alarm clock back on, or once again I’d be late. I pulled the blind open, and light poured in. I looked out at the moon, so full, so bright, my saviour! I could see the floor, the table, and God damn she was right, a pile of torn up tissue. I went to it, and if that wasn’t proof enough, the tiny black deposits around it confirmed it. I acted swiftly, grabbing the mop from against the wall and thrusting it under the table, into the corners. I could hear scurrying, towards the door. With dexterity that would impress a Hollywood director, I swung the mop, and pushed it at the door, knocking it closed. I pulled it back, grabbed a tea-towel from the sink with the other end, and rammed in up against the door, blocking any escape. I couldn’t think of a pithy one-liner to follow this up, and was a little disappointed, but then again, there was no one else there to hear it, so I guess I’ll save that for another day.
I’d stopped it leaving the room, I’d seen it do a sharp turn as I’d closed the door, but where it had gone, I couldn’t be sure. I needed light, and that’s what the fuse box would give me. I opened the cupboard door, it was dark, being under the window, and as I suspected, full of crap. I pulled out several lumps of wood, and some Tupperware, none of it had I seen before. I reached in towards the fuse box, and felt it run beneath my towel. Mr Mouse, meet Mr Manhood. I could have ended it all just my sitting down at that point, but having squashed mouse guts on the underside of my testicles didn’t appeal, and the prospect of a nibbled nob got me to my feet in record time. My handy mop was close at hand, and once more it went on the attack, searching the floor for our tiny opponent, and once more I lost track of it.
I’d come too close to an injury to my important parts, and made a few changes to how I wore the towel. I pulled it through my legs and tied it at either side, like a massive nappy. Back in the cupboard, I again fumbled for the fuse-box, but every time I ventured in, I thought I could hear it coming for me. I looked around as best I could, decided it was clear, and went in. I pulled the door to the fuse box open, and felt for the switches. I thought I could hear it coming again, started to move out, then thought I was being daft. I reached for the switches again when it felt it run over my foot. I pulled out, and tried to stand at the same time, catching the back of my head on the cupboard. I felt dizzy, and reached for something to steady myself. I grabbed a cord, and the blind closed in front of me. I panicked, grabbed my mob, swinging it around. I could hear it, squeaking, scurrying, taunting me. I couldn’t see a thing, I reached back for the blind-cord again just as it ran over my foot once more. I jumped and swung the mop at the same time, the back end caught something by the sink, and I tried to pull it away, only to bring it full into my face. I fell backwards, grabbing at something, anything to try to stop myself, and pulled the washing rack on top of me, plates and all. I lay, motionless in the dark, when I hear a shout.
“Have you got it? James? Are you okay?”
I don’t reply, and moments later I heard the door move slightly. Of course, in my earlier action I’d put the tea-towel beneath the door. There was a bang on the door as Louise tried to push it open, and it didn’t budge, so she had another go, and came tumbling into the room, falling on the mop that I let fly as I fell. She fell on top of me, and screamed. I look round, and there it is, facing us as we lay in a heap. I grabbed something from the wreckage I was part of, it felt like a broken plate, and an expensive one too. I flung it towards the mouse, and off it ran again. Hopping up into the cupboard by the fuse box.
Outside, the bone of the moon glows, but within, we lie, destroyed in the dark. I’m wearing a massive nappy, and that bloody mouse lies between me, and getting the lights back on. I’m not going to get any sleep until this is fixed, I’m going to be late to work in the morning, and worse still, I’m going to have to spend the weekend shopping for new dinner-plates.
Tonight I have met with a true monster, he is small and furry, but don’t let that fool you, for he is the epitome of evil.