031520e

Mars Colony 1 Under Attack

Nobody knew

What happened to the mice,

Evolved to survive, people say,

Like that explains it.

Grandpa was working in red dome

When it happened,

Bloody scrap of suit,

all Grandma got back;

She was never the same since.

Don't know who thought of putting out the moss,

The tardigrades come for the moss;

You don't see them,

Wouldn't want to,

with their sucking, tooth-ringed mouths,

And so many bulbous, jiggly legs.

They deal with te mice though,

Never bother anything else,

Unless...you forget the moss.

033019b

Felix came home to find
mice building some sort of contraption
on the dining room table
power supply and other components
scavenged from appliances
all over the house
"what the hell" he said
then, the mouse with the big head
clicked the remote

black shadow
etched into the wall
power out
in the whole town

mice rule

011819

sure, we do have moons
all  green cheese
hear the weremice squeak

060518c

under the hat
only a nest of brown mice
which scampered away

121317

Nursery Rhyme:

Hickory, dickory, dock,

The mouse ran up the clock,

The clock struck one,

The mouse ran down,

Hickory, dickory, dock!

The Killer Clock

I was enjoying a nice evening with a friend. A successful private eye

doesn't get many days off, but I needed a breather after the Winkie case.

Alma and I were relaxing over Scrabble after dinner when a horde of mice

raced across the room.

"What th'?!" I exclaimed. Alma put her hand on my arm as I reached for my

gun.

"It's nothing," she said, "just a game they play with the clock. Every hour

on the hour they race up the clock. In between bongs it tries to hit them.

There's no harm in it."

I wasn't so sanguine, but just then the old grandfather clock began

striking, and we heard the shrill twittering of the mice negotiating the

gauntlet. As the mice ran back across the room, I counted ten of them. It

was ten o'clock. Apparently that was part of the "game," if game it truly

was.

We were still there at 11 (though we had abandoned Scrabble for other

pursuits), and the same thing happened. I saw out of the corner of my eye

eleven mice galloping across the floor. The clock struck eleven times. The

mice ran back, squeaking excitedly. Alma was blocking my view, but I am

sure all eleven returned to their warren.

An hour later we had adjourned to an adjoining room, but I paused to listen

to the scratching of tiny feet as the horde passed our open door. Then came

the clock: bong, bong, bong, bong, crunch, ["What was that," Alma asked,

peering over her shoulder.] bong, bong, bong, bong, bong, bong, bong.

"It sounded like the clock struck one," I replied, getting up.

"But it's midnight ? oh." she said. "How horrible!"

When I reached the hall I saw at a glance that my surmise had been correct.

Blood dripped from the pendulum and the crushed body of a mouse lay in the

corner. The clock's smug grin vanished when I placed it under arrest and

cuffed its pendulum to the newel post. On duty or off, I make sure that

crime does not pay.

Reprinted from Nursery Rhyme Noir -- https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/42875