Mouse
Mouse The winter he found the mouse, Carl changed from an unhappy boy into a miserable one. He’d discovered the corpse when reaching into the caddy for a biscuit. Instead of a crumble cream, he’d pulled out a dead rodent. The tail had dangled from his fingers like string. He hadn’t known whether to laugh or cry. Now Carl listens to his favourite Puccini opera with Goro the cat on his knee. Goro hasn’t caught a mouse in years. Carl remembers how his fear gave way to sadness after he found the mouse. He reads the libretto notes on the sleeve, and thinks sorrow seldom transitions to joy. He visualises the animal’s mummified body, and he’s back in the house where he lived as a six-years-old child. Carl had stepped out of the pantry and shown the creature to his mother. He thought she’d know what to do. Mother saw the mouse, filled her red hands with bunches of white cotton from her apron and screamed. What is that, you disgusting boy? Carl had dropped the mouse’s body, fled fro...