An Inconvenient Truth

Michael Morrison

2002

Did it hurt?

Im usually a heavy sleeper, and the previous nights lethargy shouldve guaranteed a restful nights kip, but no. I woke up in the dark on my side of the single bed; the bed wed been sharing for the first week of June 2002, my girlfriend still asleep next to me in this flat that I hated. Hated. The place was damp and every single thing in it catered to its long deceased previous owners, old people.

Staring at the bedroom ceiling I heard the sound again. It definitely sounded like the hamster chewing on some Sugar Puffs, whilst maybe dragging itself by its front paws along a patch of bubble wrap. Except we didnt have a hamster. Not even mice would come near this flat. The damp would ruin an ill-placed pack of cigarette papers; anything left on the floor for too long quickly turning to mush. Like in the best horror films, my adversary, the mysterious noise, had slowly come to match its appearances to the beat of my own heart. For no reason other then to satisfy an itch I reached up to my shoulder, conscious not to wake Mel, and scratched. ... (continues)