Living on the Edge

May 15, 2007

He caught my eye as the fan blade passed over the hole. Sitting next to a green shoe box.

I’ll just ignore him. If I do anything about it, I’ll miss my tv show.

At that moment he fell. Hanging on by his little hamster paw, he dangled perilously above the fan blades, grasping onto the edge of the ceiling’s sheet rock.

Plunk! Crap, he had landed on the bed. Now I have to deal with this little brown and white furball.

Before I can move, he runs off the bed and out into the hallway. He scuttles back and forth along the edge of the wall, contemplating his next move. I’ve made it off the bed, but I too am contemplating the next move. What the hell am I going to catch this hamster with?

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