FINDERS WEEPERS

Little My has just left Clapton village. Sad fact. It's the end of an era. Meanwhile been looking for the rat down my cellar with a massive torch. Cleaner Woman identified a new smell down the cellar as l'odeur de souris morte*. She doesn't know I had a rat issue. Its for the best.

Found the dead rat between a case of Peroni and my Olympic standard John Lewis ironing board. Hash tag shudder.

Rat is gone. Little My is gone. Never thought would be using a scented candle down the cellar. Symbolic, no? Stylistic service will be resumed tomorrow.

TS out.

*dead mouse.

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