Aaron Walters had it all; lived very comfortably in an expansive luxury penthouse atop one of those desirable downtown glitzy condo towers, possessed the right education credentials to get to know influential people who willingly opened those invisi...
Three days had passed since my small visitor speedily slipped away and slip away is exactly what she had done; she slid right into the walls and vanished. Since then I hadn't seen or heard her, but on a positive note I hadn't seen or heard that mouse either.
Farm life did provide me with unfailingly certain albeit irregular confrontations against that most mercurial and least predictable of adversaries; the weather. Although for differing reasons, that small cold-blooded entity was also subject to the whims of the same adversary, especially these colder late autumn temperatures and those heavy frosts some mornings; therefore I was positive she was quietly hiding out somewhere inside my home.
No longer unnecessarily distracted by wondering about Tiny's fate or suspicious of Nexivena involvement, I quickly finished this season's remaining harvesting; my produce was safely stored away for winter.
For home heating I relied primarily on propane but the wood-burning stove in the kitchen saw regular use too. Seeing that almost empty firewood shelter every time I went outside in the back served as a constant reminder that more firewood was required; either do the felling, cutting and splitting of some trees myself or buy the cord-fuel elsewhere; I'd see how the next few days went before deciding.
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Anyway, that evening I was in my office (that room off the kitchen) and seated in front of my computer, totally engrossed in crunching numbers from financial reports of the companies I was researching on line. While I was no longer employed in that high-flying financial world I had been unjustly evicted from, I had acquired skills that I put to use in astutely managing my own personal finances.
The startling snap of a mouse trap interrupted the silence and immediately snagged my attention. Certain the sound had originated from the trap I had laid in the front entrance hall foyer I went to check, expecting to find a freshly killed rodent. Nothing.
Now suspicious that the wily creature had returned and was determined to set-off all my mouse traps again, I turned toward the living room to check on the one in there. Another telltale snap cracked before I had a chance to peer around the corner; I stealthily peeked anyway. Sure enough that miniature mischief-maker was there and struggling to extract a pencil pinned in the sprung trap; now I knew how she had been doing that, but aside from guessing I really didn't know why.
Tiny must have known I was spying because she stopped her activity just long enough to glance at me, give me a quick, 'Oh... it's just you' look, resumed her pulling and then freed the pencil.
I stepped into full view and acknowledged, "You're back."
Holding the pencil like a long pointed staff, she silently stared at me. I was curious to know where in my house she had obtained that pencil.
"Okay. I get your message... you've made it clear you don't like the traps." I finally conceded and then offered, "I'll remove them all."
As soon as those words were out I realized that she probably had no idea what the word trap meant let alone what I was talking about.
