November 6 — Squeak

That’s supposed to be a piece of cheese, and if I were a mouse I’d hesitate to go after it to.

I’ve always found mice rather quite, even knowing they ended up spoiling the odd bit of food now and then. There’s a timid curiosity to them that I’ve always found enduring. Curiosity on it’s own is deadly, doubly so for something as nonthreatening as a mouse, but with timidness they’ll explore new spaces, try a taste, or at least a sniff at anything new they encounter. Even though their desire to flee is invoked with every errant noise.

Sometimes I feel like a mouse. Feeling so curious, yet so small in a world full of dangers.