on sunday morning, i dropped an earring. a banal enough occurrence which led to the discovery of a mouse graveyard in the space between the shower and the unfinished floor.
a strong, independent woman, i- of course- attempted to take care of this myself.
an idiot, this- of course- only led to the puncturing of the mouse closest to fresh air.
for days i had smelled something and assumed various berries in the fridge had gone off. the smell unloosed by this puncturing was one which would never ever be mistaken for rotting fruit.
there were at least three of them visible. a total of five, i would later learn.
all evidence pointed to their having feasted on the mouse poison with wild abandon, emptying the tray of it. then, sated, sauntering a few steps before expiring.
no number of lit candles could cancel out the fragrance wrought of their demise.
the handyman came with haste.
by the time i returned from teaching on monday, the whole lot had been cleared out. my earring sat atop a pot of pond's cream. the tray of mouse poison was heaped high anew.
winter is coming. in winter, the mice come in. at least now i'm unlikely to mistake between dead mice for rotting fruit.