'Rat Season'
By christy
When the sky grows thick and muddy and the bitter chill wraps you in a thin sheet of needles... they come. Like little diseases with soft feet and growling bellies, they infect the shadows of my house, pillaging and nursing the spills of my kitchen as if latched to a forbidden teat. The rats the rats the rats are here, chewingandclawingandsqueaking, making my flesh crawl with tickly tiny bumps. They rape the bread box scurry neath furniture, tease me to screams till the metal hinge booms and I laugh my silly ass off! Written January 24th, 2002 © on Jan 24 2002 08:18 AM PST 0 • 14
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"When the sky grows thick and muddy..."