)(( hannah mello ))(

A Mouse that ISN'T Stuart.

This is NO LAUGHING MATTER.







This is NOT A KNOCK TO THE BLACK EARS OF POWER.








This is NOT IN REFERENCE TO A BELOVED CHILDHOOD STUART.















This CANNOT INTERFERE WITH MYTHS OF MIDGET HEROES.







And no. This is not about Mrs. Tittlehouse.










This is about LIFE and DEATH and 3:19 am.














This is about FEAR and WOE and













SCREAMS and SHRIEKS and MUFFLED SOBS in a pillow.











This is about A MOUSE THAT ISN'T NAMED STUART--

but UNDER-THE-DOORWAY BROWN EARS OF DEATH.












This isn't about BOARDGAMES.










This is about WOODEN DEATHTRAPS and STEEL.







This is NOT for the sake of PEACE-DISRUPTION...














This is about DEATH and DESTRUCTION.











______________________________

Narration:

Truth speaks.
I grew up without electricity in a dark dark mountain cabin
far far away from big cities like this one-- with
literal rats running, scurrying, leaping through the walls--
ALL NIGHT LONG.
At a young young age, my parents taught me to bang my little child fist on the walls
to attempt to silence their scampering death-clawed feet
and aid to my comfort and sleep and growth of young limbs.

A DEVIL OF PAST HAS ENTERED THE PRESENT.

For a second night in a row,
tail
and ears
and set of dark dark, beady eyes
have crept from places unthinkable
under my very door
into what is my personal dwelling--
my life space--
my only home--
my very room.

NIGHT 1:
Under the doorway.
My gasp-like scream.
A text message to my men house-mates.
No response.
A call to my historic rat-killing house-mate.
During the call, an eye-to-eye stand off where the mouse CAME RIGHT FOR ME--
and in response to my gasp-like scream take 2,
he fled.
Then, as the call marched on,
a dash under the door.
Which leads me to...

NIGHT 2:
Moments ago,
despite a rolled towel doorway-blockage,
the mouse enters through a tiny crevice.
Frightened my my flip-flop on-the-floor thumping
and creative scare tactics,
after 7 minutes of room-perimeter exploration,
the Thing dashes--
dashes--
dashes--
like a runner going for a finishing line of tape--
out the crevice yet again.

THE SAGA CONTINUES...

but one fateful night to come, it will end
with the JAWS OF DEATH and STEEL.

BEWARE. BEWARE!!!

posted by )(( hannah mello ))( @ 11:58 PM