Short, Scary Stories

Someone using my computer used this as a headline. It automatically came up when I typed in "S." Ants have invaded the interior of our homeplace. On Saturday I worked for three hours in three-inch-heel sandals and cleaned out the garage, or as some in our house call it, the transport system vessel that releases our escape pod. There is a gap where the garage closes that has about the equivalent of a one-inch space. Cat proves to be stealthless in trapping predatees that make it through the small gaps, mice in particular. One mouse? Absent mouse? Ancient mouse? The more I cleaned, the more my throat became scratchy and I started to feel sick. The sky got dark, the air was humid, and it was very quiet. As the eeriness became magnified by nightfall, I stopped my work. I am allergic to (or maybe afraid of) physical labor, especially where mice and excessive dirt and dust are involved. The garage looks pretty good, but it will never be perfect. I'm too indecisive to purge old, old stuff. I mean crap. No, I mean stuff that we might use someday.