Woke up in the middle of the night. Something rustling in the kitchen. Too sleepy to turn on the lights, but the noise doesn’t stop when I get out of bed so I grab the big flashlight, the one I keep on top of the fridge to grab if I need to deter a burglar. The weight of the flashlight gives me courage. I flick the switch to the on position and a beam of bright light stabs the darkness around me. Me and the rat. Poised on the edge of the trash bin. The rat, that is. A freaking giant rat the size of my shoe, staring at me with bright reflective red eyes, a pizza crust gripped in its forepaws.
I yell at the rat, scream at it. The rat ignores my voice and continues to stare at me. It looks like it’s judging me to see if I’m going to challenge it for the crust or not. I’m not, but maybe it doesn’t know that.
I start jumping up and down. Somehow, the realization is dawning on me that this nocturnal confrontation is not going to end well for me. I think the same realization, that it won’t end well for me, seems to cross the rat’s mind at the same time.