Evening. Sitting on a couch in the warehouse. Clunking sounds from the thin metal walls. Sounds like something softly banging on them from the outside. Light clicking and little knocks, resonating loudly, out of proportion to the size of the source.
"SQUEEEE!"
And a gray blob falls from a rafter to the toaster oven. Strange and slow and silly looking. It looks flat. A clumsy silhouette in freefall. The girls on the couch laugh. "Were those two rats fighting?" They were. The one that fell ran behind the sink and was lost behind dishes and cutting boards. "Rat wars!" one of them said.
The rafters are narrow. Assuming that rats can't go in reverse, if one comes to face another on a rafter, the only thing that could happen is one would walk over another (I mean, there could be particularly agile rats; why not?), or one would shove another off to get to wherever it was going.
As one of the sisters said, "At night this is really their warehouse. We're just intruding." I like the sisters. They're funny.
Love,
Jason
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