Friday, July 22, 2005

The Pitter-Patter of Antennas

Ok, I promised myself I would stop talking about the vermin and rodents of my lovely East End home, but tonight, I have witnessed a circus...
From the safety of my bedroom desk, I can see the kitchen, and most specifically, the Washing Machine, home to the uninvited inhabitants of Bethnal Green road. And for the past 2 hours or so, I have been observing the comings and goings of the mouse. I shall name her Mandy. Mandy comes and goes as she pleases: she scours the kitchen tiles, darts out the kitchen door to the hallway, rushes under the door to the landing, comes back into the house, and after a little loop inside the bathroom, settles back under the washing-machine. When I am busy staring at the computer screens, the shadow of something scurrying past disturbs the corner of my eye, and I just have time to see her tail waggling through the doorway. She's been at it for hours now. It is dark in the kitchen, but my eye can grow accustomed.
I shall not chase her, she is too fast. But she makes me nervous, and I find myself gazing in the darkness of the kitchen for hours, hunting moving shadows...
But will I get up from my computer for another type of shadow emerging from the Washing Machine? This shadow is much smaller, much slower, and hovers on the floor. It is the cockroach, and I shall name it Ron. God knows how many Rons live in my house, but I am wearing new sandals, and do not want to soil them...
I shall let Mandy and Ron live tonight.

4 comments:

Fouad said...

Would that be generosity or fear?

Anonymous said...

i like the way you describe Mandy and Ron...

Rasha said...

No, not fear, and certainly not generosity.
Just breaking the routine, I guess...

Rasha said...

PS: In case you were wondering, I did not practice censorship when I deleted the post above. It was just a personal message I was asked to delete after reading it. Blasphemies and curses of any sort are more than welcome. God knows how much we trespass the confines of foul-language every day; I reckon that's what makes a human human.