HattieMae0
Tulips wilt over the vase, lack of water, lack of sunshine, the dark room would smother anything alive. Mice run around in circles searching for crumbs of cheese. Crackers are broken on the floor, the television blares, and the radio displays the digital time.
Lara slumps over the arm of the sofa passed out from the night before. Curlers in her, caked on make-up, and crimson smeared lips. Whiskey bottles line up on the coffee table, ashes are dumped on the floor, and the mice well they got out of her son’s cage.
Clara and Hubert were Robert’s pet mice. Pink beady eyes navigate her nostrils.
Lara smacks her nose, wakes up and stares right at Clara. “Oh My God. Get away from me, you dirty rodent, who let you out?” she says.
“Robert! Get out here and get rid of this.” She says. Lara stands on the table with the fly swatter gripped in her hand. “You come near me you’re dead. You hear me?”
Robert rushes around the room trying to capture Clara and Hubert. “I swear I didn’t let them out Mama, the tube is broken.” He says.
Lara jumps off the table. “You got them critters, those things were chewing on my nose hairs.” She touches the scratch marks on her face. “See here.” She says.
“Yes, Mama. If you didn’t get drunk all the time, they would have never bothered you.” He says. He holds Clara and Hubert in his hands.