Mouse

 

January 13, 2022

While making coffee I heard a weird tacking sound come from the pantry. Looked, found nothing. Sound came again, looked again, realized that a mouse had fallen into the washer drum and, unable to get out, raced around and around on his tiny claws. Lifted him out and bore him out the front door into the detritus of the front garden. He sat amid the leaves glaring at me until I went back inside. The keenest sensation was the vitality and determination of his tiny body in my hand. 

Crowd at Ingle’s, preparing for the winter storm prophesied by our TV station. Long lines at the checkout, the one beside me longer because a querulous old man at the front kept objecting to what he saw on the screen. First the checkout lady and then the manager explained to him that the number on the screen was how much his groceries cost, a sum that would be deducted from the credit card he held in his hand. He kept repeating, “I’ve never seen that before! Is it new? How come you changed things?” while the people stacked up behind him closed their eyes in despair.