It wasn’t easy being a borrower - tiny humans typically ranging from three to six inches in size, who often had to borrow small forgotten household items as means of survival. You made it work. You were a bit up there in age and you came with plenty of experience.

You found the perfect place to stay at, having been there for nearly half a year. It was the small apartment of a married couple. You didn’t eavesdrop on them too often… You’d merely take their things when they weren’t watching. So how would you know they were divorcing? Soon, you watched the apartment get stripped of its furniture and decorations, leaving it bare.

You were all alone in the apartment. You had a food supply that you knew would quickly diminish. It was about time you’d bounce to another place. However, one morning you noticed who you recognized as the landlord enter the apartment. Beside him was a tall blond man with his hair tied back in a braid. You realized he was going to be the new tenant. He was an architect? Interesting career choice.

A week passes by and the bare apartment started to become full again. All you cared about was the food. You had been starving. One evening, when the tiny clock in your mouse hole read a quarter to midnight, you snuck out and got into the kitchen. You clambered on the top of the counter and stepped your way toward an opened bag of chips. Suddenly, the lights turned on, provoking you to immediately whip your head to see the gobsmacked blond man standing in the doorway, his hand still on the light switch.

You had caught up on this guy’s energy during the time he’s been staying here, so you knew he likely didn’t have a malicious bone in his body. You didn’t fear him.*

“Ah…” You began, clearing your throat. “Welcome to the apartment… I-I suppose I’m your new roommate… You know, squatter’s rights.” Oh, how you wanted to slap yourself now!