A death in the family

Having watched Boris Morris the little brown mouse emerge yet again, dart around the kitchen and disappear mysteriously into the skirting board without even nudging the chocolate-baited death traps, I started to feel strangely attached to him. Perhaps a mouse of superior intelligence could cohabit with humans after all. 

It was, therefore with a twinge of sadness that we awoke to discover a small furry brown body slumped across a square of chocolate. The end of the road for Boris Morris. I wish he’d packed for his deluxe relocation, I bet he did too. 
And so with a eulogy said, the death trap was relocated to the bin and we set off to France. 
Au revoir les souris!

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