Jeremiah

It was a nightmare, whatever it was, and I woke up to screeching. "What was that?" she said, I said go back to sleep.

A frantic scrambling somewhere outside my door. Glue traps are vile, evil things, but sometimes you just don't care. The rat would move, and pause, and try to move again. If I could only get back in that hole, I'm sure he was thinking, I'd never come back here again. At least he wasn't shrieking.

Shuffle shuffle shuffle. Silence. Shuffle shuffle for dear life. I've seen those things, they're sticky buggers, they don't let go, you're there for good. How desperate would you have to be to gnaw off your own limb?

One last effort and then it gave up or died or chewed its way to freedom. Back in the bedroom she was scared and I said what for. "Do you think Jeremiah will be okay?" Get a glue trap, get a name. I'd call that an even trade for vermin.