A Small Problem

The darkness was still present and everything in the apartment was very still. If one could focus enough, the only sound that could be distinctly heard was of the clock and the old refrigerator. There was a brief sound of a door being closed.



Swathi quietly stepped into the drawing room keeping her ears open for anything out of the ordinary. Then she heard it, the sound of movement and a smile of victory appeared on her face. She slid the curtains allowing the light of dawn to enter the room and approached the kitchen and stopped right outside it.



She decided to have a look at her victim and there it was a small little thing, inside the trap cage, a small mouse.



Swathi and her husband Vidyut shared similarity in the fear of mice. However, in their apartment they didn’t have to worry of any such thing until one day Swathi found a bite on an apple and the search began to no favourable outcome and then one day while Swathi and Vidyut relaxed watching television, the mouse passed by in front of the television and both of them jumped and ran behind the sofa, where they stood for quite some time before deciding to switch off the television for the day and retire for the night.



But the mouse had not only snatched the peace out of their life but also sleep. They couldn’t sleep and the very next day a rat trap cage was brought, they feared if they brought poison, it might make the mouse do something crazy, like turning into a human devouring monster all of a sudden. I made the last part up myself. 



They placed the cage where they thought it would be the best and it worked. The menace had been contained. The little mouse sat scared, occasionally eating the food kept as bait, while Swathi and Vidyut tried to think of what was to be done with it. They had no idea at all and even if they did, they did not want to do it.



While I sat in the park, a young boy I knew came eating a muffin. He had another which he shared with me and they were delicious.



“Where did you get these muffins from? Did your mother make them?” I said since I already knew none of the bakers around could have made it, and they had that homely taste.



“No” said the boy then he took time to swallow the content of his mouth and then spoke again, “Swathi aunty made them. She gave them to me after I released the mouse caught in their rat trap, in the field nearby. She is afraid of them I think.”

Written by Anuran Chatterji

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