Falling into a faint gloom over wedding dresses, I heard a mouse-like scurrying coming from the kitchen, so I ran off to bed

like a fragile little lady

[oh dear, I forgot to get my secret stash from the table. I have the tiniest bundle of weed, you see, and sometimes I take it out like I'm going to do something with it, but instead it just sits there and smells good. I hope the mouse doesn't steal it. Or for my future mother in law to find it when she gets home. I think I hid it under a glove. Let's hope.]