A fair warning before I begin. The subject matter of this post is going to be disgusting. I would advise not to read it if you're eating......
Now that I have your attention, I'll begin.
Saturday night I was plagued with my usual insomnia. Ate some leftovers at midnight. Watched a few YouTube videos. Messed around with my computer. Brushed my eldest cat Scratch. Made sure the cats had clean water and fresh food.
As usual, I'm making a short story into a lengthy one. Please bear with me.
My habit lately has been to go to bed around 3:00 a.m. and read until dawn. I have a lot of new books to read. Blogger Ron from Retired in Delaware recently (and very generously) sent me a large collection of books about Hollywood that he no longer wants. I'm presently reading several of those books simultaneously.
Before I delved into Ron's books tonight, I grabbed an old history book of mine because I've been doing some research on ancient Babylon.
None of this has to do with my horror story, but it's a good buildup. Hang on....and whatever you do...don't eat....
Okay, here we go:
3:15 a.m.
I'm propped up in bed with my book. It's a warm, stuffy night. My bedroom window is wide open and the morning mountain fog is already obscuring the forest. An owl is whoo-hooing in the distance.
I have been transported to the great city of Babylon and am immersed in the reign of Nebuchadnezzar. I can almost see the spectacular city and the hear the rush of the nearby Euphrates River.
I can almost smell the Euphrates river.
Well, hell, I have a good imagination.
Funny, the river doesn't smell very good. In fact it smells rotten. Really rotten.
Actually, when I first settled into bed and began reading I smelled something rotten but tried to ignore it. Soon the smell couldn't be ignored.
Is it me? Do I smell rotten?
Is it the sheets on the bed?
Is it the book?
The Babylon book I'm reading had been in the garage for awhile. Maybe it's moldy.
I'm very reluctant to face the reality of what I really think. This smell isn't rotten - it's putrid. very putrid. Dead and decomposing putrid. And it's extremely nearby.
I try to ignore it one more time, but I can't. It's horrifyingly real. And it is definitely dead.
Perhaps there's a dead animal outside, nearby. I get up and go to the window. The air is damp and fresh.
The putrid smell of death is coming from some place around my bed. I'm starting to slightly panic.
I thoroughly check the pillows and covers while I'm having a nasty flashback.
When I first moved here, the cats killed a mouse and put it in my bed. My apprehension of going to bed has been intense ever since.
My bed is situated about a foot away from the wall. That's where the stench is coming from. I force myself to look in the space between my bed and the wall.....
.....and there it is - a big dead decomposing mouse. Right by the head of the bed. To say I felt sick would be an understatement.
It's not easy to extract the rancid rodent from it's temporary tomb. I use a broom and a dustpan. I then put on my boots and take the odious thing outside and toss it far away from the house, somewhere in the forest. I'm not in the mood to prepare a fancy burial.
Back in the bedroom - I use carpet cleaner, an ammonia spray, and a pesticide spray (just in case). The room no longer smells rancid, but it now smells like absolute hell from the cleansing mixtures. I'll do more cleaning tomorrow.
It's presently after 5:30 a.m. and daylight has arrived. I'm not exactly in the mood to go back to bed, even though I'm tired.
I just checked the room again and there's no odor at all......so.....I might crawl into bed and try to get some shuteye.
I took a helluva long time to tell a short tale (tail?) of a dead mouse, but unnecessary mileage with extended detours is my specialty.
It's over. Now you can eat.
