Eulogy

I survived the night without a heart attack. Mouse wasn't so lucky. He succumbed to a broken neck. He was a fat-assed little thing.

At least that was my impression from what I saw of him. Even when dead, I can't stand to look at them, but I couldn't very well leave the body lying around waiting for the guys from CSI to take over so I scooped him up in a dustpan, dumped him in a plastic bag, trap and all, then threw that bag into a bigger bag. All without looking at him any more than absolutely necessary.

I still shudder at the thought of it. Of how close I had to come to the creep. My house is no longer my castle.