mice

Eric Clapton and I filled the room at Flat 4, Laurel House, Balham as well as we could.  I I'm not a great fan to be honest, but amidst all the white lies and pretensions of the evening, one more isn't going to be noticed.  She's making coffee, forced upon her after an awkward silence when even Eric paused for dramatic effect.

We'd talked about music, how nice she looked in beige (apparently not beige), how much we both liked the mutual friend who suggested we get together, and how surprisingly full our diaries were for the rest of our lives, or at least the next week.  Same wave length, I'm not even sure we're ion the same ocean.

My mind wandered back to the mice.  She'd discovered that the flat had mice after seeing something disappearing down a hole behind the TV.  I guess in a mild panic, and having nothing else to hand, she attacked the hole with a Toilet Duck, not wanting to kill anything, just warn them off.  I don't see how that works though, surely other mice are more likely to be attracted to the Pine freshness of the current residents.  I could even imagine whatever the mouse equivalent of "Homes and Gardens" (Holes and Skirtings ?), this might become the must see pad in the whole of the South East.

Mind you, if they could be trained to scurry about the flat, that forest aroma could be lovely.  I'm even sure that for a romantic evening at home, the mice could be contracted for a small piece of double Gloucester, to have themselves be painted in luminous colours and float around the floor like Chinese lanterns at New Year.

She sat back down, but for the first time smiled something real.
"About the mice" she said
"Mmmm" 
She paused.
"you'll think I'm silly", and for the first time this evening we smiled together
"try me"

The End