Christmas Cards Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house, not a creature was

stirring except for the mouse. This mouse, unaware that it was violating a storybook Christmas clich, was still scampering around in the darkness of Anirudhs room, preparing to scavenge in its usual wary manner. Poor Anirudh was always too self-absorbed in the woes of his life to notice the granola bars that his mother left for him, let alone the small mouse that enjoyed them instead. Since his mother thought he ate them, and Anirudh simply could not care less what happened in his room, everything worked out quite well for the hardened scavenger. The mouse pricked up its ears and took in the silence of the surroundings. The radio that Anirudh had been listening to earlier was off and he did not turn in his sleep. The hallway, too, was soundless - the coast was clear, or so it seemed. The mouse peeked out from in the closet. Vigilance. Vigilance has to be maintained, the mouse reminded himself. Too many others had been lost to carelessness and underestimation of the terror against which they fought namely, Anirudhs mother, who was hopefully lying in bed right now, but the mouse could not be sure. She was known to stalk the house nightly looking for mice, and even if she did sleep, no doubt her idea of pleasant dreams included rat poison, broomsticks, torture and extermination of mice like him. The mouse shuddered. Why couldnt she be like other mothers who leap to tabletops when faced with harmless squeaky creatures? Why was she wired fight, instead of flight? And above all, why was her s But this was life, and there was nothing to do but accept it accept that he was the last of his kind in this house, and that giving up was out of the question. Nothing was poisoned anymore, after all the mother did not know that a mouse still existed, did not know that a tiny heart thumped traitorously, that dark beady eyes still could flick left and right, alert and watching! For that was what they were doing right now. No point in waiting any longer. Soundlessly, in about three seconds, he was on the table by the box of granola bars. A resounding footstep inside the room startled the mouse and survival instincts took over. There was no time to question how the mother got in without opening the door who knew what she was capable of? and the mouse sped towards the closet literally outrunning death. Not for long, though. He knew that this meant he could no longer live indefinitely; with a blown cover, it was only a matter of time until the exterminator was called again, and no matter how well he tried to hide, the exterminator would not fail a second time. It was okay, though. There was not a lot of meaning in life anymore. All of his friends were gone, and in a way, he welcomed death. That is to say, a cessation to a meaningless existence which was not bad, was it? It was not bad to think that way

The mouse was in the closet when light filled the room. Flashlight, no doubt. It was bright