December 14th

(To read this story from the beginning, click here.)

Back at home, I wake to find three dead mice at the foot of my bed. Across the room, tucked inside my bookshelf, Klink is nestled between Atwood and Eggers.

“You serious?”

“What? It’s in my nature.”

I rise in the morning chill and scoop up her captors in a plastic bag, disposing them in the garbage outside.

“You’re just going to throw those out?”

 “What would you have me do?”

“They’re delicacies. Savour them.”


2 Responses

  1. Loving it.

  2. 🙂

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