I’m not for spending money or traveling abroad, but when I opened
the drawer, at the bottom of my desk, it was full of tiny mice, nesting
on my Checkbook, as I hadn’t opened it for years; they had eaten
my passport too, and a couple of poems I thought were too racy to be
published. 22 mice smaller than a baby’s thumb confused in the glare
of light, the creatures thought my fingers were other mice when I tried
to retrieve my Checkbook and my out of date passport.
Closed the drawer to the mice’s delight, thought it had been a deviation,
got hold of a tin bucket, opened the drawer again and put them all in there,
yes, even the babies - there are times in life when one can show no mercy -
my intention was to drown them, but could not, their struggle to climb up
the bucket must be honored. At night, I let them free on the sandy lane.
When I opened the drawer next day a big rat sat there, bit my finger, it had
stolen my credit card…. Now, how do you explain that to a bank manager?