I knew better when I saw him knocking, the wheels in his head returning, and I could see the mice behind his eyes. I let him in, and he was nothing but trouble. He sauntered towards me with a look of melting ice slowly sinking into the floor around my feet and into the soles of my shoes. It's the middle of December, so it's no wonder my feet are cold. He went to plant a chaste kiss on my lips, and in a very unladylike fashion, I regarded him with a moan. To put it frankly, we were getting into heavy petting while at my brother's pet store, and then, in a not very romantic slam against what we thought was the wall, we let loose the mice. He smiled deviously and started to help me catch them, saying, "Happy 300-day anniversary." I glared at him. "Very funny."
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