Home Invasion

Dear Little Deceased Animal,

As a wild creature, I cannot fathom why you felt the need to run away from the lovely outdoors, and break into my house while I was away, but I appreciate the effort it took to use your sharp little teeth and claws to chew your way in.

I am also touched that you decided my home would make a wonderful final resting place for your little bloated corpse. Instead of dying in the wild, you decided that a suburban attic would be more befitting.

I think it was also quite considerate of you to pick a 94 degree day to die. I woke up this morning, thinking it was going to be an ordinary day in my ordinary-smelling house, but when I came home from school you had perfumed the air with the reek of death.

Perhaps you didn't intend it, but I couldn't help but notice that special touch: I came home later than usual today, after the pest control people had already stopped answering their phones. Also, I had a guest over.

Therefore, as I try to sleep tonight, I will dream of you, little dead animal, and feel ambivalent about whether I am glad or not that you're dead.

With Appropriate Affection,

The Tenant