Clapham days: a memory

January 7, 2008 at 1:44 pm (blog, Double espresso)

We had rats for two months, but we were in denial. We could hear them, but we’d convince ourselves it was something different, like plumbing. Paul, my flatmate, put these pellets everywhere. They were supposed to kill the rats. What he didn’t know was that rats don’t have their own corpse-removal unit. If one dies they leave it there. That’s what happened.

One day our friend Rich came around and pointed to the conference of flies above the kitchen sink. With no further ado, I turn on the vacuum cleaner to suck up the flies up mid-air.

“There’s a dead animal here,” said Rich.

Don’t be silly, we said.

“Well what do you think that smell is?”


Paul and I were in denial.

Rich prised open this board under a sink. Sure enough, there was dead rat there, which because Paul owned the property I thought it best he cleaned up. We’d tried everything – a sonic device that plugged into a wall socket. It made a noise only rodents can hear. Who ever put it together was having a laugh, they did something so it attract rats rather than repel them. Rodents from all over the neighbourhood made their way to the illegal rat-rave in our home.


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