You scurry along the concrete silently, stopping to sniff every few feet because you think maybe a rock is food this time. Rocks are never food, not one time has a rock been food, but you have not learned to stop sniffing them and you never will because you are just the dumbest kind of mouse.
You come across a strange, multi-colored cave in the lot. Its walls appear soft and pliable and it doesn’t seem to go back very far. If you knew anything about human stuff you’d know this as a sock, but you don’t so you sniff it because maybe it’s food.
Whew! Definitely not food. Smells nasty. You know what, though? It looks like you could maybe fit in there.
You crawl inside. It’s comfy and cozy and you decide maybe you could live here forever. Being the dumbest mouse, you forget which way you came in (two inches behind you, in fact your tail is still outside) and try to exit through the toe of the sock.
You hit the seam and decide you have, once again, been coaxed into the gullet of a stationary predator. You resign yourself to your digestive fate and curl up in a dumb little mouse ball. Before long, you fall into slumber.
Your sleep is restless and filled with horrible nightmares of being repeatedly outrun by cheese. You toss and turn as in your dream you squeak as loud as you can and run your little mouse paws as fast as they’ll go, but the cheese is faster and you know you can never have it in your little mouse mouth.
You awake in what would be a cold sweat if you sweated. In your sleep, you have turned around so that you face the opening of the sock.
You exit the dead predator and beeline for a nearby rock. You smell the rock. It is not food.