Tuesday, January 29, 2008
They say that our small cul-de-sac in Peterborough was built upon an ancient monument, with rumours of pre-druidical temples and long-forgotten heathen rites. Roman remains have been found in the vicinity, up towards the railway bridge.
And at night, we just can't sleep. The walls resonate to the dull repetitive throbbing of enamel on wood. The endless cycle of nibbling makes normal sleep impossible. Even in restless dreams, though, the sound, the noise prevails.
We are infested.
Our house's hideous secret is not lice, worms, flies or even mice. It is worse. It's that most odeous of invaders – rats!
Posted by BW at 4:37 PM