I am sitting at the computer, looking into the kitchen, and the mouse I've been trying to kill for weeks and weeks makes an appearance. He or she approaches the mousetrap, taut and baited with peanut butter. He or she licks and nibbles at the peanut butter. It could be any second, any microsecond. Snap!. But it goes on, this flaunting (flouting?) of death, of mousetraps, of humans, of me. I watch, but then I can't watch. Any second now. It reminds me so much of watching the guy try to throw himself from the Brooklyn Bridge.
I turn away. Maybe it's the trap. Maybe that's it.Posted by dbrown at January 25, 2005 11:36 PM