she walked me through

the doorway

like a charmer

with a lion

and the room inside was

loud

with color

flowers growing

from the ceiling

the plants adorned

the windowsill

like jewelry

on a woman’s neck

a fire roaring in the hearth

and I realized…

it was cold

it was cold because

it was winter

and in winter,

plants didn’t grow

in abundance

didn’t thrive

like they did

in the yard of the fly

and I couldn’t believe

I hadn’t noticed

not even the hint of snow

was in that forest

the trees embellished

with their plentiful leaves

but it was winter

leaves fell in fall

trees stood naked in winter

they weren’t

dressed up in greenery

but they had been

I had pushed past

so many low-hanging

branches lined with

the greenest of leaves

so much that I had

assumed it was

spring again

and that not just two

days ago

I’d fallen into a snow bank

with Lily

with Lily, goddammit

but these thoughts left me

in a hurry

as I noticed

the snow mouse

on the table

tuft of fur at the

end of its tail

pale brown fur

so much thicker

than other mice

propped up on its back feet

like a human

and looking at us

was it…

anxiously?

I dismissed this

as a trick of the light

how did a mouse survive

in a house

with such a playful black cat?

on the table, no less

and then the birds

began to twitter

at each other

throwing

fretful glances my way

fretful… who was I kidding?

a canary couldn’t be fretful

and shouldn’t they be in a cage?

wouldn’t they escape?

the fly glared at me

you don’t own them

its their right to escape

if they wish.

why do you insist

on holding things

against their will?

for your own use

and entertainment

I was confused and ashamed

I wondered why they stayed

here

when they could so easily fly away

I wondered what they ate

did they find their own food?

or did the fly feed them?

I watched her walk

across the room

and scoop the mouse into her hand

she held it out to me

He’s not so bad, see?

Sniff him.

she wasn’t talking to me

she was talking to the mouse

I held out my hand

and I admit I was perplexed

as the mouse crawled

cautiously from her dainty

fingers to mine

dainty? where did that come from?

her fingers have always been

completely normal

and now they were dainty?

but the mouse distracted me

from my observations

crawling over my palm

and up the inside of my arm

over my shoulder

around my neck

and it gave me a chill

as it worked its way through my hair

as if it was a jungle

that needed to be

protected and undamaged

but explored all the same

So?

said the fly

as it made its way

back to her hand

and she held it out

for it

but it halted

at the tips of my fingers

and settled down there

I was frozen

hadn’t moved since the

little hands first

roamed across my palm

but now

as he sat down, curled up

in the center of my hand

I relaxed

kind of

I relaxed as much as

one can relax

when holding a mouse.

Oh. said the fly

Alright then.

she looked to me

say hello to Perry.

…

for a moment I

looked around the room

but found nothing but

plants

and animals

and furniture.

The mouse.

I looked down

at the now sleeping

mouse in my hand

“Oh.”

I blinked

“Hello.”

The mouse… Perry opened its eyes halfway

and raised its… his head up a fraction

to look at me

to acknowledge me

and then settled it back down

I looked back up to the fly

who was smiling

with a mixture of pain

and triumph.

The kind of smile

that the football team always wore

when they’d won the game

but a player was on his way to the

hospital.

The fly had won something here

but she’d lost something too.