From: The Blue Octavo Notebooks by Frank Kafka: Sixth Notebook

When the little mouse, which was loved as none other in the mouse-world, got into a trap one night and with a shrill scream forfeited its life for the sight of the bacon, all the mice in the district, in their holes, were overcome by trembling and shaking; with eyes blinking uncontrollably they gazed at each other one by one, while their tails scraped the ground busily and senselessly. Then they came out, hesitantly, pushing one another, all drawn towards the scene of death. There it lay, the dear little mouse, its neck caught in the deadly iron, the little pink legs drawn up, and now stiff the feeble body that would so well have deserved a scrap of bacon. The parents stood beside it and eyed their child’s remains.

THE TORMENTING DEMON
The tormenting demon dwells in the forest. In a long-abandoned cabin dating back to old charcoal-burning times. Going in, one notices only an inexpungible smell of things moldering, and nothing else. Smaller than the smallest mouse, invisible even to an eye that comes very close, the tormenting demon cowers in a corner. Nothing, nothing at all can be noticed; quietly the forest murmurs are heard through the empty window. How lonely it is here, and how well it suits you. Here in the corner you will sleep. Why not in the forest, where the air moves freely? Because now you happen to be here, safe in a cabin, in spite of the fact that the door dropped off its hinges long ago and has been carried away. But still, you grope in the air as through you were trying to pull the door to, then you lie down.