Of Mice and Hofmann

I could never forget those mice, the way they looked at me when I administered the compound, LSD-25. Their eyes as black as pinheads and about the same size looked straight, not at my eyes, not quite, but into them. And I saw my reflection on the glass, a serious face with eyebrows the shape of attention, looking back at me, at all of us, my paws on the glass feeling cold, the sweet smell of urine coming from my herdmates, and the man in white, as big as God, looking at me. No, I never could forget those mice.


Michael Michailidis was born in Greece, lived in London and wrestling with narrative and the English language. So far none has won, or lost.


Photo Credit: Alice

2 Responses to “Of Mice and Hofmann”

  1. Matthew Parker says:

    Very intense piece! I love it.

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