MicroHorror

My bedroom door is one of those sliding types. The kind that slides into a pocket in the wall on rollers. It was put in just before I moved in and wasn’t completely finished. It has no handle or latch and is made of smooth, polished wood. So if it is closed all the way I can only open it by prying at the edge with my fingernails until I can get a gap big enough to pull it by. Sometimes I remember not to close it all the way, but many nights I close it completely and have to scrabble my way out. This can take several seconds, especially if I’m hurrying to get to the phone.

The other quirk of my apartment is that it seems to be the official meeting place for mice in the building. I’ve never seen one in my apartment, but I can hear them scampering through the walls and vents. At least, I always thought they were mice.

Tonight, while I lie in bed, several of them gathered near the vent and began squeaking. After several seconds the squeaks resolved into high scratchy voices. They spoke of how the catering service from the floor below me moving out had left them without supplies of food to steal. They talked about “alternative sources” and “drastic measures.” They began to discuss strategies to capture a larger opponent.

I can hear a new sound now, metal scraping metal. It’s the sound of knives being sharpened. They’re discussing where the “best cuts” are now. I wonder… I just wonder if I left the door open enough.