There's a mouse in your bucket dear Huffy, dear Huffy

I wake to a noise in the house. The sound happens again. I can’t identify it. It is 4am when I get out of bed and turn the lights on to see what’s what.

My gaze is torn from my Kindle to the view out the train window. The horizon starts maroon then shifts up into gold stopped only by deep, dark, blue clouds. Water is a very deep purple and houses are flat black cutouts.

As the train pull into North Station the wedge of sky beneath the clouds is solid gold, the water has turned an inky black and the clouds are now purple with orange wisps beneath.

I wake to a noise in the house. The sound continues for a while this time. It is 4am when I get out of bed and turn the lights on to see what’s what. A little mouse has fallen into my mop bucket and can’t get back out. Its bulging, pupil-less eyes seem to follow me as I move around. I go back to bed.

My gaze lifts from the Kindle. The horizon is gold, water is again black and the clouds a dark blue. I am one day closer to the weekend and a kayak.