They described her as tall and elegant, someone who got things done, who was looked up to and admired.
She leaned against a streetlight, the cold air of the dark night pressed hard against her body, and she shivered, slightly. A newly lit cigarette was in her hand, wedged between her frozen fingers, and she took another drag before she pulled out the gun. It was a pistol not much larger than the size of her hand, and as she let go of the cigarette, she pressed the barrel against her temple and clicked the trigger.
Instead of bullets, she'd loaded mice. Small, miniture mice packed so closely together that as soon as they released they shot so quickly towards her that the laws of physics wavered, and a mouse found itself in the hollow of her skull. Her brain throbbed, and she nearly lost her balance, but quick reflexes forced her to tighten her hold around the streetlight.
The mouse, which found itself in her brain, moved hesitantly at first. One bite, slow and unsteady, but the rest came quick and sharp each movement executed as programmed. The mouse made its way around her brain, until only the necessary 5% fragment remained, and it curled its nimble body around that 5% and formed the shape of her previous brain. It looked almost exactly the same.
No one could tell the difference.
It was 12am and id just seen a confusing french film so
Im so sorry
