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I kept mice a few times. Once, I came home from a trip where my brother was supposed to be taking care of them, them as in a dozen, at the time. I came home and there was just one big one, and this weird piece of meat. Apparently the mice all ate eachother, except for a few, which my brother threw down the toilet and flushed, while alive.
That one meat piece left over was pretty weird. It was dry. Like if I'd shown up a couple hours later, it'd have been half devoured, by this big gorgoroth mouse.
The death of mice were my first encounters with death. I was full of wonder and hell-bent on getting answers about it, but was denied. My parents were devout atheists, you see. Shame on me for even asking. And that is why I think some atheists are boring. They're just shoving off.
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