Sunday, January 27, 2008

The Smell of Death


In my quest for a perfect life, I have taken up trapping the mice and rats that chose to cohabit our house. I really don’t mind them too much except for the nightly bitter patter of little and not so little feet. A few days ago I got a trophy size female rat. Now there is an aroma emanating from the space between our bedroom ceiling and thatched roof. It is the smell of something rotting, death personified. We can only guess what it is (Maybe, baby rats abandoned by their now deceased mother? A Romeo rat without his Juliet?), and await its return to dust.

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