The Mouse Family

The Mouse family. That’s how I perceive them. A new couple moved in just recently. They
have three little girls. When I sit on the porch not thirty feet away from where the girls are
romping I can’t make out a single word they say.
It all sounds like “Squeak, squeak, squeak” to me. I don’t think it’s a by-product of my old age.
These tiny girls have voices in a register so high-pitched only their mother can hear them.

It’s Nature’s Way, I think; like baby birds.


About The Twentieth Man

Age 68
This entry was posted in Observations, Personal History, Short Stories and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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