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Hickory Dickory Dock it was not a clock

So, I am somewhere, conducting business in the restroom, when all the sudden, something slides under the door like blackmail.

As my eyes scan back and forth trying to figure out what just happened. I see a flash of shadow race toward me.

This helped me to expedite the process I was currently occupied with in the facilities and ensured my heart was working correctly.. it is.

In order to exert my dominance over whatever was going to attack me, I let out a kind of shrill war cry of sorts. It could be compared to that of sheer terror, but I assure you, it was meant to thwart any incoming attack and confuse the enemy by letting it know I wasn’t afraid…

Now, I’ve got my feet lifted above the floor because I have still not fully processed what is happening.

Apparently my war cry was misunderstood as an effort to communicate with the enemy, or I was being mocked, I am still not certain.
About this time, appearing beside me, I hear a similar war cry returned.. “squeak!”.
Squeak?

I think it translated to… oh my apologies I didn’t realise this room was occupied or… maybe it was.. this isn’t where I parked my car.
I’m not sure? I’m still trying to sort that part out.

And just as quickly as it came, Mighty Mouse 🐭 disappeared.
On to check on its next heart patient I’d imagine.. or, maybe to find it’s car.

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Lauren Siebert
Lauren is a an award-winning journalist who decided after 10 years of newspaper experience to venture out. Hallmark Times was born.
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