Mouse Flirts Norwegian Style #amwriting

mouse and jarlsberg

#7 in the third series of Mouse stories. Read the others here.

Mouse Flirts Norwegian Style

I have to say at least these Norwegian dudes aren’t heavy handed, yet. I’m a little disconcerted about all of their guns pointed my way, but realize that if they were to shoot, in the circle formation they have, well they’re going to shoot each other, even if the bullets had to pass through me first. I thought Norwegian schools were better than that.

Mr. Alex-lookalike saunters over to me. “Are you security?” he asks.

I giggle. “Do I look like security? I just wanted more cheese and your guy there put a gun in my face. What was I supposed to do? I only come to these things for the food.”

The “guy” in question is now standing and is testing his face with his hands while scowling at me. Mr. Alex looks at him. “What happened?”

“She was under the table. Very suspicious. She was grabbing cheese and putting it on her plate.”

Mr. Alex sighs. “And how was that suspicious?”

“She was under the table.”

Mr. Alex looks at me. “Why were you under the table?”

“Because you guys were acting suspicious and I just wanted to eat my cheese in peace. Like I said—”

“You only come here for the food,” Mr. Alex says.

I grin at him. “Yep.”

He rolls his eyes. “She’s not a risk. Let her eat her damned cheese.”

I tug on his black t-shirt as he moves to walk away. He looks at my hand and then at me, raising an eyebrow. “Are there any good Norwegian cheeses or is that what this is all about?”

He laughs. He rattles off a bunch of names only one means anything to me: Jarlsberg.

I nod. “Jarlsberg. Never tried it.”

He lowers his head. “If you’re a good girl, I might show you where you can find some nice Jarlsberg.”

Huh. I don’t know whether to be offended or intrigued. I smile. I don’t try to wink. I know what I look like doing that and it isn’t pretty. I bite into a piece of Stilton and carefully chew, kind of smiling while I do it. His eyes rest on me a bit longer than I would have thought necessary. I almost wipe my face to see if there aren’t stray crumbs. His blue eyes shimmer. Under different circumstances, Mr. Alex lookalike would have been very, very interesting. I almost think he is now. He’s an environmental activist…who has just taken a bunch of people hostage. Life is good, no? Or is life bad? Maybe life is just confusing.



Sascha Darlington





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