by Kyle Curcio
It is what it is....
"I think about it a lot, actually. Why is it always a hole?''
"Because it's safer, I guess. You're just a tiny mouse, Herbie."
It was a peculiar sight, to be sure. Herbie, a tiny mouse, stretched out on his "thinking spot", a sunlit rock just at the edge of the meadow he called home. Beside him was a silky black cat, her coat betrayed as more a deep chocolate brown by the late afternoon sun.
''But, Abigail! Ducks live on ponds, squirrels in trees...how did everybody come to live as they do? I don't particularly like it underground. It's a little cold.''
''Clammy,'' Abigail offered.
"That as well.'' He glanced lazily toward her. ''Where do you live?''
As enthralled in conversation with his new friend as he had been, it was difficult to imagine they had only met a couple of hours ago.
"Well, I live in a house, mostly.''
"A house. It's kind of a box where people live. They keep their food there."
"A people hole." Observed the rodent.
Abigail smiled. "I never thought of it that way, but yes. A People hole."
"Do you keep your food there too, Abigail?"
"They have food for me there but I don't care for it unless it's raining out."
Herbie sighed. ''Yeah, I'm not much for rain, either. Beautiful day today."
"Agreed," she replied and then she ate him.
Abigail had enjoyed her time with Herbie. A most interesting mouse, though he didn't taste any different than any other mouse. It would be a long walk back through the tall grass of this meadow, anyway, and he'd been such a tiny mouse she'd probably be hungry again by the time she got home.