Little Mice

The strangest thing happened this morning. I ran for my morning coffee in the pitch black of predawn. It was and horrible wet. By the time I reached my usual haunt, I was saturated from my socks upwards. But, and here’s the thing, I had the comfort of a warm cafe and lovely coffee to look forward to. The little mouse I startled that ran across the shop hoardings frightened, wet and cold had no such luxury. I watched it scurry away no bigger than my thumb, and wondered if someone looked down on me the same. Are we not all little mice running in the rain? Makes you think.

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