Text Me Maybe?

We held each other and I cried while he muttered his frustrations and adorably convoluted  insecurities to me. It was an emotionally confusing night and we were both in some weird negative limbo, weighing each other down. We tried to kiss, but he inhaled my tears and choked a little. “What if I drown in your tears?” I think he was joking and I laughed because we were so absurdly awkward that it was perfect. I kissed him back and he escorted me to the light rail in his gentlemanly way. He waited with me for the train and saw me off. That was the end of our relationship I guess. 

We texted each other the next day and decided to “take a break” I really miss him but I know it’s for the best. 

Peace to all the broken hearts. We’ll get our time someday.

Grocery Connections

I meandered through the aisles, the fact that I was there for soap barely registered in my mind when I was approached by a small elderly lady pushing her own cart (as opposed to one from target) She wore a drab green dress and sported pigtails under her yarn hat.

 “Hey. Hey! You.” She quickly drew herself to my side. “Yes?” I thought she was going to ask me where something was. I soon learned I was mistaken when she proceeded to tell me that she had been approached by two furry creatures carrying signs which told her that if she wouldn’t take them home they were going to kill her (the setting of this scene was an abandoned parking lot of course) “There were two of them and one of me! I had to do it!” She leaned in closer as I tried to take on a serious face and nodded earnestly “hmmm” “wow.” She then went on to tell me that they were cats, but… “Ohhhh, you don’t really wanna know this part” (in conspiratorial tones) and a low whisper ” They’re actually gods,GODS! Egyptian gods!” I was beginning to have fun so I asked her how that made her feel. Apparently terrible. “They… (She looked around as if to be sure no one would hear) “They force me to buy them friskies” her face dropped, and she rubbed her arm as she seemed to shiver. She also mentioned something about a big black and white cat who was their big Daddy​. “They have claws I have to do what they say! ” Her face almost pleading.

 She must have realized I was humoring her because then she told me that she was actually a comedy writer with several books under her belt. I almost believed her and even asked her what her name was. Linda Rogo she said. Oh dear. A fictional character. 

At that point I was slowly backing away as she yelled out one liners at me “Wait, one more! I hate drugs so much I won’t even give my cat catnip!” 

“Oh youuuu! I have to get home now! Thank you! You have a good night! Bye bye!” And so the night ended. I never got that dish soap.

Die. Roach. Die.

They have us surrounded. There is no going back now. The great extermination must commence.

A week ago they visited the kitchen, zipping from shadow to shadow; their chitinous little backs taunting​ me as they scurried past. 

Then I noticed them by the toilet and in the closet, small and large. At times they fell from some high place and frantically slid down the wall or casually landed and stood, antennae shifting, hairy legs rustling, disgusting me completely. The frequency of their presence growing and grinding on my nerves.

When they began to emerge in twos and threes, gleefully dancing about on our counter tops, my father bought a special paste to lure and poison them. I applied said paste and within a day their twitching bodies were littered across our cream carpet.

Tomorrow the fogger comes. Tomorrow we will twist the knife with which the roach hoarde has been impaled. Let them fall that we may sweep their corpses in to sweet roach hell.