Who Could Have Known?

It was my own fault. Maybe that is some consolation. I should not have any excuses but if I did it would be simple tiredness. Not that that would cut much ice with those who will now be subjected to a reign of unimaginable terror.

It was the early hours of the morning. Finally it was bedtime. There were two things I needed to do. Firstly listen for the local mouse who likes to ferret around in our skirting board. Then remove my watch. It gets attached to you when you always wear it. You know you have to remove spectacles because you cannot turn over without realising they are there. The watch is a different matter as it never gets in the way. But eventually I realised I was still wearing it and wearily loosened the strap. No one wants to handle a limp object at that time of night. So I could not be bothered to get up and put the watch in its usual place. I just leaned over and put it on the table. Big deal. It wasn't going anywhere. Off to sleep and forget about it.

Next morning I remembered it was on the table and strapped it on again from there. All well and good. I was not so weary the next night. So back went the watch to its usual post on top of the fridge. The flat is very small you see. Next morning as usual up again and off to work. One problem. The watch was not its usual shiny self. Something was wrong. It worked perfectly well but some of its metallic sparkle had gone. Where once had been crystalline sheen was now a barely winking dullness. Did it matter? I thought not. Then I realised what had happened.

Watches are by nature dependable. They are designed to do the same thing the same way over and over again and feed on their own regularity. But mine had now for the first time been introduced to a new place. It could not cope. In perplexity at a variation in its routine it had sought the place out again. It realised it could not move on its own. But the mouse could. It made the mistake of confiding in the mouse trying to find explanations of its strange feeling that there was a world beyond absolute uniformity. The mouse was only too happy to listen and take advantage of this temporary emotional bond. The inevitable happened. No one realised it to begin with. But soon it was clear that a horror had unleashed itself on the nation.

The first mechanical mouse was born about three weeks ago. At first sight it is harmless enough. Its movement is regular and it squeaks every sixty seconds so you know it is coming. The problem comes when you try to kill it. The first mechanical mouse gave birth to several others and each has their own orbital path. They move around this path with monotonous regularity nibbling away at anything they find. Nothing can prevent them and nothing can resist them. People are losing toes and abandoning their houses as there is no safe place for anyone or anything. Each controlled mechanical mouse zone becomes larger and larger as the mice breed and their orbital paths become wider and wider to fit them all in. Ours is the only flat in the block still holding out against the mice. We also have to hold out against the angry neighbours who have seen their property destroyed by these creatures and expect some sort of satisfaction from me as if I am a mechanical mouse myself.

The watches have been affected too. They are highly temperamental. You never know what time they want it to be as they are so afraid of making a mistake that they barely move and hope the time they show will come round again. They jump from wrist to wrist to seek sweat for food and comfort from the watches which remain more definite. They will not go within one hundred miles of a farmer's wife and have staged several audacious rescue attempts on their computer cursor operating brethren. It is a shame the circus found out too late. Herds of elephants stampede away from their shows and all over the surrounding area when watches in the audience frighten them. Already it may too late to prevent "the end of civilization as we know it". Or "Walsall" to use the correct terminology.

I meant no harm. I do not prefer mechanical mice and temperamental watches to the old ones. I did not understand the consequences of my actions. I also know none of this means anything now. The world is beyond what we call regularity. At least we all enjoyed the occasional burst of originality while it lasted.