The Mouse Catcher

Night shift in the mouse catching business. It's that eerie hour, the dead of night. The Mouse Catcher makes his long round in the dark city. Most everyone is asleep in the houses he checks but usually he doesn't even know if they are home at all. There are some big houses, you wouldn't believe it in the crowded center of this old town but some houses are more like little villages with hallways and hundreds of doors. During a war you could hide a family in the basement section and most of the time you'd forget they were there at all. And they could find plenty to eat.

He has keys but does not really need them. He can let himself in. There are so many ways and he needs very little for his passage.

The traps are there already and he checks them, one by one. "Nothing..." he whispers to himself if one is empty. He likes a good catch but he enjoys the sight of an empty trap as much. The lure, the openness, the options and the patience of the contraption, they seem to explain something if you look at them long enough, they make a point, he can't put it to words but it is blissful.

He leaves the house as quietly as he arrived. The benevolent burglar has been inside to take away the mice, but none tonight. All is well.