A Mouse in the House

Damn! I have a mouse in my house. I just saw it today, as I was enjoying my Sunday afternoon and peacefully writing on the sofa. I saw something scurry on the other side of the room. Fixing my eyes to that area, I definitely saw a mouse go under the chair.

I’d had some experience with mice in Siberia, so I avoided complete panic. I walked outside and told Faruh, the oldest son in the family.

“I’m scared of mice,” he said. He called his younger brother, Habib, and told him to go with me. Habib wasn’t so brave either, hesitantly moving around the furniture, seeming uneager to actually come across the mouse himself.

“They’re afraid of people you know,” he told me.

“Yes, and I’m afraid of them.”

He brought me a small wooden mouse trap and placed it in the area where I spotted the mouse.

“How will I know if a mouse is in there?” I asked. I didn’t want to be picking it up and checking it.

“You’ll hear it.” He showed me what happens when the mouse goes for the bread inside and I jumped when the trap popped shut.

I was just getting used to this place and it really ruins my tranquility to know that I’m not the only living thing here. I move around the room cautiously, keep a constant lookout, jump at creaks and bangs and scratches, and feel a general nervousness.

I had bought cheese for lunch this afternoon. In Siberia, the mice also appeared when I first brought cheese into the house. So I thought maybe I shouldn’t eat in my room. But unfortunately, there is nowhere else to go unless I want to eat standing up in an unheated room. I can only cross my fingers that this wasn’t the first of many.