memory

The house, the boyfriend, work and kids are all going well.
My clothes fit better; I’m swimming and loving it, I’m living the dream.
So walking to work this morning my mind had time to wonder and just meander down all sort of pathways.
Does it happen to others, when you come across a memory which is so vivid that you can almost feel the sensations, shudder at the sick feeling and hear the dialogue, a memory at least 30 years old?
I was in the office at home. A very small room but a lovely outlook with two heavy sash windows and an ironing basket that reached the ceiling, a large wood laminated table with a white portable Olivetti typewriter, black swivel chair and draws filled with stationery. I was typing a story and completely engrossed in what I was doing. My feet were on the floor and I felt warm and fuzzy. I suddenly became conscious that I was rubbing my feet over something that felt warm soft and would roll and as I dragged my feet back and forth.
I searched my memory banks for what it could be: a tennis ball, a roll of tape, a fluffy toy, no it could none of these. I hung my head down under the table to investigate and to my horror it was a little grey mouse.
I can still feel the warmth of its body the softness of its fur and the sick feeling it gave me when I realised it must have only just died because it was still warm. How did all of a sudden it become that beautiful soft comfort item making me fell warm and fuzzy to making scream and wanting to vomit.
This little memory, down some pathway made me shudder and quickly close the door.