The Mouse- I saw a mouse today, his was the image of perfection. A perfect mouse. Not a mark or blemish marked his miniscule body, not a hair strayed from the uniformity of his silken fur. His coat yet held it's sheen, it's luster; yet, looking into his somber, listless black orbs, I saw that he was dead. An Autumn leaf. A taxidermy mouse in a taxidermy house. He's got gears, too. Wind him up. Watch him grind through his taxidermy "life". His "life", just as fabricated as that of a figurine on a german cuckoo clock.Yes, I saw a mouse today. I saw him yesterday as well. I see him in the faces passing by in the street. I see him in the face at the front of the class. I see him on the television screen, on every channel, on every website. And in the mirror. Grinding, always grinding. Pretending to be alive. Gotta fool the other dead mice.