---

I’m not sure why I did it. Sure, the window was ajar and all the lights were out. And I had been drinking. But that’s not a reason. I walked over to the house very stealthily, looked around – left, right, left again, right again – methodically scanning the alleyways and murky corners. It was all clear. I lifted the window and climbed in. I didn’t feel scared because I knew I wasn’t doing anything wrong.

Inside, it was dark and quiet. All I could hear was the mechanical shuddering of the refrigerator as it rattled out the heartbeat of the house. I felt thirsty from drinking, so I picked up a mug that was sitting in the sink and poured myself some water. I held the mug up to the moonlight. It had a picture on it of a mouse wearing sunglasses and a leather jacket. Under the picture, it said: “Take it cheesy, baby.” The mouse was shrugging and grinning at the same time. I drank the water, but I was still thirsty.

I shouldn’t have turned on the tap again. Above me, I heard strange, insensate mutterings and then footsteps began to creak the ribs and joists. I’m a meticulous person, so I replaced the mug in the sink. Then I looked for somewhere to hide. In the next room, there was an understair cupboard. I opened the door and clambered inside. It was stuffed with cushions and duvets, and I squirmed and absorbed myself, then pulled the door shut behind me.

Soon after, I felt pressure and vibrations coming from the steps above me. But, enclosed by the cushions and duvets, I felt safe, invisible, untouchable. The footsteps passed over me and grew faint as they moved into the kitchen and then there was the muffled sound of the window shutting. I heard the lock clunk. Then the footsteps returned and echoed over me again before melting away.

I sank further into the fabric and curled up. I rested against the wall and the metal pipes warmed my head. I imagined their spluttering arteries stretching through the skeletal cavities of the house. It was comforting. I thought about the mouse in the leather jacket.

“Take it cheesy, baby,” I whispered. Then, I must have fallen asleep.

I dreamt that I was being chased by a giant filing cabinet. I was dressed in a leather jacket and shades. No surprises there; my dreams are always pretty easy to decipher: I had a big presentation to do the next day. But it was odd that I might be worried about it, because I thrive on pressure. The most important thing is to be adequately prepared. I think it’s very important to work hard and to make a good account of yourself.

When I next opened my eyes, I knew it was morning because I could see a vein of daylight beneath the door. There was movement in the room. I heard the front door close.

I climbed out of the cupboard and went to get another drink of water. When I looked at the mug again in the daylight, I noticed that there was a second mouse on the other side of the mug. He was wearing bermuda shorts and was carrying a surfboard. Underneath, it said: “The Squeak-end Starts Here!” Once I had drunk the water, I opened the fridge and looked for some food. I didn’t want anyone to know I was there, so I took a tiny nibble out of everything, so nothing would be noticed. As I say, I’m a logical person.

I went to the bathroom and then went back to the kitchen and stretched my legs for a while. Then I got back into the cupboard. I think I was hoping that I would get caught and go to prison. Either that or I would stay there for ever. Quiet as a mouse. It wasn’t long before I fell asleep again.

I dreamt that I was surfing at the peak of a colossal wave. I’ve never surfed before and I was terrified of falling. To keep my balance, I looked down at my feet and noticed that I was standing on a giant computer keyboard. The wave began to curl above me until there was ocean on all sides. The churning of the water was deafening. Finally, I became completely engulfed. Under the water, everything was quiet and featureless. The giant keyboard sank slowly into the deep. I watched it until it was out of sight. Then, there was nothing. This is it, I thought. I remember feeling very happy. I smiled to myself and said, “The squeak-end starts here”. And then I woke up.

There was a clunking sound coming from another part of the house – the front door was being unlocked. I heard the door shut and then the sound of approaching footsteps. Keys clinked onto a hard surface and then, in an instant, there was muffled chattering; the television had been switched on. After a while, I heard the scrape and clatter of cutlery on a plate. I remembered all the things I had nibbled and wondered which of them was on the menu tonight.

I tried attuning myself to the sound of the television over all other noises. If I concentrated, I could hear pretty well. I stayed nestled in the cupboard all evening and listened.

In the middle of the night, I climbed out of the cupboard again. I walked out the front door, being sure to close it securely behind me, and went home. I suppose I should admit one thing: I took the mug with me.

---

The next day at work, my supervisor called me into her office.

“What happened, Michael?”

“I was ill.”

“We needed you for the presentation.”

“I know, but I was ill.”

“Why didn’t you call?”

“I was ill. I couldn’t get to the phone.” She stared at me searchingly. “I am due some leave,” I said.

“I know, Michael, but we needed you.”

“I was ill.”

She looked at me for a few seconds and then looked down at my file. Statistically, I have a very low record of absenteeism. I’m a model employee.

“OK. We’ll let this go today. You’re a good little worker, OK. But because you didn’t phone in, we’ll have to take this one out of your leave. OK?”

“OK.”

They made a note of it, I’m sure. But no-one ever mentioned it again. I worked extra hard for a few weeks after that and started coming in at the weekends now and again. It’s important to make a good account of yourself. I think I got away with it.