I step across my threshold with nothing on my mind except the prescription bottle that I’ve forgotten on my bed. I’ve been sans a nerve pain pill for two doses and at this point I have excruciating pain in four places and an alarming lack of sensation in a fifth. The first thing I’m going to do is take a missed dose.
The first thing I actually do is drop four F-bombs. Sitting on my wall is something I can only describe as a fucking corpse blow-fly (DON’T google that!). It’s about as long as the first joint of my thumb—I have long thumbs—and it’s…not actually doing anything. I avoid aggroing it as I get into streets and prepare a snack to take this med with. It is then that I notice something…odd about the air in the apartment. It smells vaguely like battery acid and hate. I get the distinct impression that I should check my glue trap.
“Ay, Yemaya help me!”
I realize that they don’t have actual collarbone an are also all around flexible, but even Eldritch Mouse shouldn’t be bent in such a position. It clearly didn’t approve of the plan I had laid out for it. Its body is twisted double—triple-jointed even, using the entire available width area of the glue trap. From the looks of things, I got him shortly after leaving for work—maybe that was the noise I heard when I thought I dropped a pack of caraway seeds.
Worthy opponent aside, I’m not looking forward to moving that trap. But if I don’t get up to do it now, it won’t get done…
*cringe/shudders and gets up*