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well, more like brooklyn.
brent found a mouse laying still on the carpet in the kitchen. it's small body curled up in front of the oven. no one was around; not a creature was stirring.
he only told me these facts after he had picked up and placed the dead mouse into the garbage. that sentence put me in a state of unease, and as i cooked later on, it continued to affect me.
outside, the winds are howling through the rain-washed darkness. every swoop and flurry screams and echoes in the streets below.
its little tail, sticking out of miscellaneous discarded items in the trash made me sad; all of the hairs on its small body just barely visible from underneath aluminum foil and plastic bags.
it's all so short, i thought to myself. and how easily forgotten amongst the remorse. how frank and curt our reactions to such tiny happenings.
and moments later, am i too to be forgotten in the same manner?
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