The rage of the subway orator was stunted by the equally insurgent singer. He justified his disturbance in the name of God's wrath and her response was passionate pop music. As he declared, you are an abomination in pants, she silenced him with her vociferous lack of recognition, rendering him a false prophet in search of significance.
And Lester knew that he was and would ever be this mouse's *only* killer; and that this fact would never not be true. They had this together, he and the mouse, for eternity. The moment the mouse had entered the house, the memoric catalogue of all of his moments would take on a different sheen--each was a movement that would lead to his eventual demise. But then, Lester thought--so were his, to an unknown predator that would finally do him in. And suddenly the reality magnified from the story of this mouse, to the story of this man, and to the story of... what? Lester felt a rush of deep respect for this inexorable rodent, of whom he was now bereft.
[Note: increasing confusion of the referent of the pronoun "he" as Lester or the mouse is deliberate]