Dialling up the flash fiction madness for my last March post! Enjoy!
Some people call them ghosts. I just call them voices, but then, I’ve never had much imagination. There’s no haunting, just scratchings and whisperings carried through the house to my ear as draughts. I know better than to pay attention to them.
Although there was this one thing they said which I’m still thinking about.
One day, while I was in the cupboard under the stairs, the voices told me I should get rid of the mice. They explained how to do it. How to do it and not get caught.
It was so easy. I wonder that I’d never thought of it before.
Yes, I normally avoid going into the cupboard under the stairs, but the mice had been making so much noise, and I needed to get away from it. (And yes, mice is just what I call them.)
I prepared the cheese and left it out. First on the table and the kitchen counter, then on the floor, then I ripped the yellow blocks apart and stuffed every gap, nook, and hole with cheese until my fingers glowed yellow from its fat.
The mice ate and went quiet. The cheese went blue from mould, but the house was free of their scratching and whispering. But the voices were gone, too.
I hope that doesn’t mean I’ve done a bad thing. What if the mice are having nightmares from all the cheese?
I should try some myself to check.
Tomorrow is Bandcamp Friday, and I’ll be getting the new Huntsmen E.P. The Dying Pines. What will you be getting?
Woher nimmst Du all diese Ideen,die Du excellent,spannend und lebendig in Geschichten verwandelst?
Man hört es selbst kratzen und schaben,denkt zurück an alte Zeiten,in der man so Rrunde Käfigfallen mit Speck aufstellte-die Maus kam hinein und schaute einen dann flehend an.
Dann kam die mörderische Tour-Feder spannen wie ein Katapult,Speck auf einen Nagelspies.Betrat die Maus neugrig den Auslöser vor dem Speck-die Wucht der gespannten Feder spaltete das arme niedliche Tier……aus mit der Maus-Flash fiction:Horror!
Bis bald.