The sunshine reminds you of concrete skies

[sovay]

There was no deer mouse under the mixing bowl this morning, nor did his cousins manifest and demand recompense.

My brother calls me up to let me know, as a sort of yardstick before he tells our parents, that he has acquired a mouse.

Her name is Experiment 6. She is a white lab mouse whom he saved from the short desolate life of snake food; she has a little plastic wheel on which she races like a hamster and he reports that she is ruby-eyed and affectionate. He would bring her home, except that my mother, who is allergic to every kind of fur, would stop breathing as surely as if she were a cat. So either I will have to wait until he has an apartment this summer or I should visit in the next couple of weeks before I can meet her. It's a little sad; it's rather sweet; I tell him to send photographs.

Apollo Smintheus laughs and eats my pear cake.

Comments

[ex-blue-verv849.livejournal.com]

Mice are strange. Between your stories of your classics lesson of an interloper and my pet-store managing partner's sporadic reports of mouse crime scenes (generally along the lines of one less in the tank and all the others bounding around like nothing is wrong, blood up to their first joints), something dark wants to brew.

Have ever seen Mouse Guard?
http://www.davidpetersen.net/mouseguard/index.htm

[ex-blue-verv849.livejournal.com]

It looks like the world of Redwall before Brian Jacques ran out of plot and still kept writing.

True. I think the last one I read was Mariel, and the whole thing was starting to go even then. I noticed that he had something non-redwall out, which gives me a little hope for him.