Two tiny beady eyes and a fast heartbeat glanced at the oblivious couple from it’s tiny hidey-hole under the sturdy dresser. The rain had it cooped up indoors as well. This room was devoid of crumbs though, so it needed to scamper on to find food.

It scurried between the drywall panels, through chewed holes in the 2 by 4s made by generations of rodents before. The mouse felt no ties to these previous chewers, no thanks either, only hunger and instinct.

Passing through the wall to the lowered ceiling above the kitchen, the din of pots and pans and the voices masking his footsteps, he lowered himself to the opening behind the sacks of flour and watched the cooks hurry about.

He’d have to chance a run across the floor to reach the trash bin with the hole he’d chewed last night. But once inside, he could quietly munch on celery ends, cheese rinds, peach pits, and moldy crusts to his stomach’s content.

“This rain is great! People are dining in! We’re earning our keep now boys!” the chef announces joyfully.

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