White Mice

photo courtesy of Rosie Hardy

...and then they led her back to her cell. Her eyes burned; her skin itched. Yellow pus oozed out of a hastily sewn incision on her abdomen. As they locked the door behind her and crawled off, she thought she heard them say, "Don't worry. Their brains are so tiny, they can't feel any pain."

submitted for One Shoot Sunday at One Stop Poetry