FALL 2020 ISSUE

Mim’s ears twitched up and down as her other friend, Morris, whiskers twitched. The two mice were huddled under a large, ancient oak. The stars looked like roads in the night sky from the mice’s view. 
Scratching her filthy, mud brown fur, Mim’s eyes darted everywhere, not missing a detail. She tried to come up with an idea to what Morris had told her a few moments ago. 
“I have an idea! Let’s see if we can get out of the mousetrap on Farmer’s  lawn!” Mim cringed at the idea. She knew it was stupid, suicidal even, but part of her wanted to try. Morris had that effect on mice. He was a hefty mouse, with chalkboard grey fur that glistened when he moved. 
“So, what’s the answer?” he asked, teeth flashing, “It’s only a game! And it’ll pass time too.” Mim felt her small heart beat rapidly in her chest, quivering like her tiny body. 
“I don’t… I don’t think…” Morris gave her a look, beady black eyes wide. “Oh, alright!” Mim relented. 
As the two mice scurried through the grass, their pink, naked tails dragging behind them, Mim began to feel queasy. Why was she doing this? Her own brother had died in a mousetrap. Why would she go in the one voluntarily, even if Morris suggested it? But, it was Morris… he would never do anything to harm her, not since they’d known each other as pups. Unless… No. Mim refused to believe it. The other day, when she and Morris had been choosing holes to live in, he’d wanted her place, but she’d gotten there first. And the look in his eyes had been… Angry. So angry, his eyes seemed to glow. 
“Here we are!” Morris flicked Mim with his tail, and she shrank back. Suddenly, he didn’t look as handsome as he usually did, and was a hardness to his gaze she didn’t like. All she knew was that she’d never seen a look like that in a mouse’s eyes. Morris chuckled. “What, are you scared? I told you, it’s just a game!” Defiance fluttered in Mim’s tiny chest as she looked at the contraption, a mess of wires, wood, and pain. At the very end, was a spoon-sized dollop of peanut butter. Saliva gathered in the back of Morris's mouth as memories and smells collided in her puny brain. She wanted it so bad… 
“Go ahead,” said Morris. He still had the mad glint in his eyes. “You can go first.” Something started churning in Mim’s gut. Perhaps it was the spoiled tomatoes she’d eaten earlier or perhaps… 
...Perhaps it was the realization that Morris did want to hurt her. She didn’t know how or why, but she started trembling like a stack of Jell-O. 
“No,” Mim squeaked, “You can go first.” Morris’s teeth flashed again and before Mim knew what was happening, Morris dug his claws into the fur around her neck and tossed Mim into the mousetrap. Whatever it would be like if a mouse screamed, Mim did just that. Her body quivered as she heard the trap smash down. She listened for the snap of her own frail bones, but nothing came. Instead, she heard another squeak, and the sound of life leaving a body. She looked behind her, and saw Morris, whom Mim had clung onto as he threw her. The wire bar was across his neck, and blood smeared his grey fur. The bead-like eyes were empty as the night sky, and his tiny body lay pinned to the ground. Mim sniffed, trembling. Morris, her old friend, had tried to kill her over a property. Shaking her round head, Mim backed away from Morris’s body. Her emotions felt like someone had dug into her: raw, deep, and bloody. Turning around, Mim scurried forward, not looking back. When she was 15 paces away, she stopped, turning back to Morris. Her voice was acidic when she spat out her next words. 
“I win.” 
Then, the little mouse scurried across the grass, and into the black, starry night.