I watched a mousy, meek
Indian named Sumeena kill four mice in four seconds.
Her practiced and efficient
neck breakage was matched with a mildly nervous - eyes looking, hoping for
approval- smile when she looked back to me.
“That’s it?” I asked as the
mouse briefly twitched.
“Oh, yes. That’s only the
nerves firing.”
Isn’t that all life, all
mind and soul, nerve firing? I thought.
The first mouse left three
drops of blood on the cage’s roof, three inches above his genetically identical
brother.
It was just a swift one
fingered push on the back of his neck.
“Partial decapitation”, as
she described her technique to me.
The mouse’s skin tore like
the paper thin, wet leather it is. A glistening flesh underneath was opened
with one snip. Tweezers into the cut made, pulling a red- bean spleen out with
it. A snip to release, and then it was over. Repeat three times.