There are rats
nesting beneath the stairwell
bordering the doorway to
our little shared house.
Their little fingers scratch
in the dirt, and their black eyes gleam
like beads. They scour the alley to glean
bits and pieces, fresh nibblings, fine for a rat’s
dinner. Up creaking stairs they trot, the
chunky food between teeth, up the stairwell
and into the den, their share house
like ours: dusty, and in disarray too.
We, the occupants, are much too
like rodents. Our kitchen does not gleam
with shine, our living tight between alley walls, the house
a nest of trinkets, neatly arranged, as rats
do prefer. Perhaps it is ill to speak unwell
of the
critters that are our neighbours. The
family of four are too
right to settle here, in this rental market. Well-off
is Mr Rodent to glean
a living here, where the anti-pet apartment assures a rat’s
safest quarters, where the bins house
a silo for foodstuffs. We carry into the house
our Monday groceries and by the
Friday they come out again, scraps for a rat’s
evening meal. Fulfilling it would be, to
live safe and fat with a gleaming
grin in a hovel beneath the stairwell,
where the tread of feet patters well
into the night, like cool rain on a house
roof top. The stairs by the doorway gleam
slick with water and sand and the
shit stink too
familiar of rodent. Well
would we be to be rid of the
rats. The house
would gleam, well, more cleanly.
Adrienne is in her third year studying a Bachelor of Arts (Writing and English Literature) at UOW. She moved to the Illawarra from the Central West to develop her skills as a writer and textiles artist. She writes short fiction pieces for the Tertangala in poetry and prose form. Her work is underlaid with a witty commentary on the shared experiences of the pandemic, student life and moving from home. Using threads of these common themes, she aims to weave connections across environments and communities.