“. . as Malaika moves away from us, her body alert. She is more like a wild animal than a pet. Caz follows her eyes. “Malaika can hear something,” she says. “Maybe a hedgehog snoring. Or another rat foraging for food.” “It’s moving closer.” Caz is whispering now. “Malaika’s calling out.” I listen. I have good ears, but I can hear no sound coming from Caz’s fancy rat. “I hear something.” Caz breathes the words. “Something about offering.” “I can’t hear anything. Caz, this is —” “She’s calling ano...ther rat. Look at her, Peter!” It is true that the fancy rat is behaving strangely now. Her gray-and-white body is rigid. She is motionless except for the twitching of her nostrils. “Offering. Offering. Can’t you hear that word?” It has been a long day. We have eaten too much. Maybe Caz is in a dream while still waking. “It’s time for us to go to bed,” I say gently. There is a stirring, the smallest movement of dry, dead leaves, from the rubbish near where she is sitting.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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