A Mouse In The House; Or, Why I'm Leaving Soon

Last night I was reading, trying to fall asleep. Daniel had long since entered Snoozeville, and it was only ten o'clock. I keep a stack of crossword puzzles between my bed and my nightstand as my go-to insomnia cure, but I try to save them for "special" occasions and I'm not that desperate for sleep–yet. So I'm reading along, and I hear paper rustling. I am not turning pages, nor is Bad Hand causing the book to shake. But I try to convince it's not big deal and continue reading.

Then...