Shit

I sleep in filth. I somnambulate through shit. Pitiful, pitiful piles. Little logs of dirt. Specks, frankly. I sweep them aside: "ah, psh what is this crud, what is this crud? Ah, it's nothing, do a quick brush and lay your body to rest."
NEWS FLASH
Hello, I am your housemate and I am communicating via E-mail to inform you all that the specks of black logishness on the kitchen counter are not just debris--they are mice turds.
"Interesting, interesting" I eat my breakfast, I eat my lunch and I eat my dinner. I read a book for a while in my itchy bed and go get a graham cracker. Wait a minut---
As I gaze down at my Star Wars sheets and carefully consider the impossibly black, thin little logs that adorn Obi Wan's torso, Luke Skywalker's saber, I think to myself that this is mice shit.
I sleep in filth. I somnambulate through shit.