I used to read epic poems — like The Iliad or ad scripts for prescription medication side effects — but prolonged focus on one thing is detrimental to living like a mouse.
When I go for evening scurries in the neighborhood, I point out to strangers how things have really changed, and that fear is the government’s tool to distract us from subterranean towns. They seem just as confused with how maze-like life has become.
At dinner parties, friends tell me I tend to overreact. They mean well with their forced calmness, dismissing my pleas like cats dismiss human affection. I often acquiesce, as I want to be a generous host.
Though, there’s always one who throws their little hands up and decries: “Let’s not talk politics to keep the peace! Let’s instead create a plan for finding the cheese!” But as you know, it’s the host’s role to not tell guests where it’s hidden.