In the kitchen, an unsuspecting mouse nibbled on a forgotten crumb. Small paws brushed its whiskers and pink nose. Its long tail trailed behind, beckoning me. I hid around the corner, my head poking out to observe the squeaky animal. I hadn’t seen a mouse up close before. They didn’t usually come round after the new maid was hired.
I began to creep closer, slinking into the wall. The little creature was pleasantly plump. Its large ears looked tiny when compared to its rounded belly. Not surprisingly, the mouse gobbled down the crumb with gusto.
Unexpectedly, the mouse jerked its head up. Beady eyes circled back and forth. I froze, muscles tense.
Suddenly, the mouse darted underneath the dishwasher. I chased after it, reaching in the collection of dust, hoping to brush against the mouse. Instead, it scurried out of its hiding place. In one smooth motion, I leapt after the mouse, landing right on top and successfully trapped it.
I felt it wriggling, and could not resist taking a quick peek. It turned motionless at the sight of me, much to my disappointment. I sat back, letting it free. Still, it remained unmoving, its whiskers twitching wildly. I gave it a little bat of encouragement, and watched with glee as it scampered away. In a few steps, I once again caught up with it.
“Don’t play with your food!” My mother scolded.
Reluctantly, I pinned the mouse’s tail beneath my paw. It continued to scratch the floor in a panicked frenzy. I gently gathered the soft creature in my jaws, feeling the little mouse go limp, as I carried it into the other room to play in peace.