Every Day,
A Century

Rock Island

Big day yesterday. Baked loaf of bread less dense than brick; solved four-month mystery dead mouse smell: dead mouse. Not in the walls, but middle of the room, plain sight. Died on photograph same color it was—explains why we didn’t see it. (Eh, clean your goddamn house). Paid landlord, invited wife and him to dinner end of month. He apologized for poking round out back; we hadn't seen. Kid missing, known him since he's so high; didn't get back from bar the other night. Lifted up the storm hatch just to check. Fair enough—we don't have good record finding dead things.

Kate Kremer


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