Hell is other species

Oh god, oh god, I’m so freaked out… I keep glancing over the breakfast bar counter to see if it’s really dead. I can’t sit there and look at it, it’s too disgusting. I can’t clear it away for the same reason. And …oh god …what if I get up tomorrow and it’s not there?

I wish I’d never wondered if it was true that they’d survive a nuclear war; maybe it was tempting fate. This utter bastard has just very nearly survived one-to-one mortal combat with me, and I’m several hundred times its size and was armed with nearly a full can of what I was told would be Instant Death.

I know I should probably have bashed it with a shoe, but the only one handy was a renegade flip-flop that was in the cupboard already so it had probably been walking on it. Plus I couldn’t bear the massive crunch – it’s at least an inch long. So instead I had to zap it and watch it agilely disappear at the speed of light while I clumsily poked things out of the way with a broom handle, too scared to get close in case it ran – or, horrors!, flew – out at me.

And when I finally got it out in the open it was like trying to blow out one of those re-lighting candles on a child’s birthday cake. I was spraying and spraying it and it kept doing final death throes and then… and then… starting up again as I wailed out loud ‘Oh, please die… please, just die…’.

I was really starting to think I would run out of death spray before it gave up the ghost, and then I’d have had to concede the apartment. It didn’t help that I was having vaguely Buddhist, or something, guilt about killing a living thing. It was alright for him, he grew up in Thailand, or possibly Tibet. India? Somewhere where things with excessive legs are no big deal, [IT’S STILL THERE] anyway. Come to think of it, even the deities have extra legs, so no wonder they're not fazed by insects. I’d already chucked all the bleach I had left into the cupboard …that was my opening gambit, but now I’m all out of options.

I’m calming down enough now to realise this is getting to several hundred words… but it was the nearest I could get, being currently without phone card, credit or Internet, to talking to someone.

Oh FUCK! There’s another. What the fuck am I going to do? Oh shit. Oh shit. It’s run along the wall and disappeared. Oh no.. it’s back, and it’s got wings.. it’s run along the wall to my bedroom and DISAPPEARED. DISAPPEARED IN MY BEDROOM. Calm. Calm. I can sleep out here. I could go to Aline’s. But I’m not dressed and all my clothes are in the bedroom. Plus it’s half past midnight. I’m just going to have to stay up all night. I’m not risking going to sleep and finding it crawling over me or something. And bugger the environment… in the morning I’m going to Google Agent Orange.

Oh woe, Ô rage, Ô désespoir. I can’t even get to the fridge to get a beer because I’d have to step over the first one and it might come alive again.