Oh god... First of all the fact that I'm calling out for god is a worry...
We've got mice in the kitchen, no wait, they're in the front room too. All they want is the warmth of a home, but why did they choose ours? Dad calls them the little ones. It takes away that scratchy, creepy, scrabbling feeling that you get when you imagine them crawling over the surfaces.
At Victoria station I stepped over a puddle...with a dead mouse floating in it...
I just watched one of those children's ward TV shows, one girl had a hay fever sneezing fit that lasted for 2 hours and a little Brazilian boy got reconstructive surgery on his deformed ear.
His life will change immeasurably, growing confidence, and a new haircut to show off the surgeon's good work...
but here I am with a lump in my throat and close to tears.
And now I'm reminded of that poor mouse who had to bear a human ear on his back just for the likes of that little boy... the shame of it. Imagine the poor little mite hanging out with his furry mates? No doubt he was the laughing stock of the community.
Little things, like ears and mice and mice with ears are starting to trouble me.
I know these things are tiny, but they're getting bigger and bigger by the day.
I just miss you and even sitting here waiting to be connected online starts to consume me. Small things getting bigger by the day.
For now I'll content myself with the company of the little ones.
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