Somebody gave us a flyswatter at our housewarming party and it was hanging in the kitchen, just inside the door. I grabbed it as I entered.Everything ...ooked OK. Bozo looked up at me, a curious expression on his face. I crept up to the sink as quietly as I could, raised my right hand with the flyswatter in it and opened the cupboard door as quickly as possible. No mouse. I pulled out the trash can, ready to catch him hiding behind it. Still no mouse. No mouse droppings, either. By now, Bozo was. Finally I returned to the little bedroom and picked up the diary. I checked my cell phone, the clock read just a little past eleven thirty. I would wait until one am and then, hopefully the storm will have died down enough that I could start walking again.Until then, I might as well finish the diary.The final page was covered in smeared ink, almost impossible to read in the faint light that came from my phone. I squinted, trying to make out the indistinct words, finally catching a few words. More

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