Johnny II finds his new home quite nice. Roomy, with a clear running tube. Good food and very clean.
Many visitors come at first, but then fewer.
His exercise wheel has developed a squeak—annoying, then soothing in time.
Memories of mother’s call as he rots in this lonely cage.
Iain L. Luen has a normal job, but hopes for rescue. He just wants to write and take pics. See more at deviantart.com/echoesofarchi.
“They’re at it again.”
“Well, what do you want me to do about it?”
“Go out there and stop them. It’s bad enough they trespass onto our property. Now they’re starting to steal from us. I don’t know how much more I can take.”
“Honey, calm down, they’re just squirrels.”
Wendy Schmidt is a Wisconsin native who has written short stories and poems for the last 10 years. Her poetry and short stories have been published in Strange, Weird and Wonderful, Daily Love, Three Line Poetry, Tainted Tea, Fear and Trembling, and Midwest Literary Magazine.
Like many other runty rodents, Gus had an entirely undeserved nickname.
“Goofy Gopher,” his mom had affectionately called him. But the weasels found out.
Gus’s father said, “Reappropriate it. Go into stand-up. Make a name for yourself. Show them up.”
But it turned out Gus’s jokes just weren’t very funny.
“‘You saved my life, Ratman! How can I thank you?’ – ‘I didn’t save you so you could thank me, Mr. Cheese. I just wanted to eat you myself!’ – ‘Oh no! Help me, someone!”
“Rusty, stop playing with your food!” snapped mother. “Why can’t you act like we normal mice do?”