Laurels Literary Magazine Fall 2015 | Page 90

Mostly trash. There's a homeless guy that sometimes patrols this area for aluminum but the endless waves of plastic don’t seem to have something to do with the trash. But no. As a Bronco rumbles past me a small mouse hops out of the wheel well, in such an Honda, and keeps up with us, damnit. I felt like I was watching a horse race, cheering as I look around me trying to catch the eye of the drivers next to me. Do you see this? A mouse! And he is running as fast as a car! Come on y’all appreciate this nature and shit! I can almost hear him panting as his short back legs seamlessly move in tandem with his forearms, making him seem as graceful as a small mouse running for his life could be. This goes on for at least half a mile. I feel like it’s a special performance just for me. I get to see this—wow am I lucky. I keep cheering and run off course and under the right wheel of the Honda. I don’t think she even felt the bump as she went over him, if she did—she didn’t react. He rolls out from under her wheel, lifeless, and I swerve to avoid the little body. That whole day I think about how he ran, and how he rolled. I wonder if I’m a little sick. 78