p-bug

every now and again I like to pull out a little box from the closet. It’s full of our “love letter”s dating all the way back from high school. But you know what was in it today? A roach . a big fat nasty gross evil thing LIVING IN OUR LOVE LETTERS. It sprawled out onto the carpet, laughed at me, and said “HA, you never guessed I’d be  hiding here”.

Several cans of raid later….I sat with the box. I no longer felt like looking through them. They’d lost their value. They had roach cooties. For the life of me I can’t understand why I hate them so much…and I realized today that I hate killing them just as must as their being alive. I feel bad, watching them writhe. I can’t help but to think that I’m smothering something significant…a life.