This is the tiny story that got me started on tiny stories of mobbing. Having done a webzine in the early years of the World Wide Web (WWW) as we heralded it at the time, I’ve lived a life of tiny stories.
It was early morning, April 19th of the current year. I was getting ready to go to bed after running water down the drains to recharge the traps, turning off the water stop on a toilet, and padding down the steps to shut off water to the house and still the water table. My roommate was out of town.
The mobbers were getting ready too. I could hear them stumbling around in the dark next door. I had the sense they were moving water through plumbing, maybe the sewer lateral, on the other side of the southern fence. I walked toward the wide open window in the front bathroom in time to hear one of them call out to another, “…and put some YouTube in!”
Time to recharge the toilet trap. The front toilet has a two-flush tank so I could use one and keep one in reserve in case things got noisy during the night.
I flushed. They went silent. “Oh! Sorry!” I called out the window. “Did I get you wet?”
