gross

maybe it's the time of year, for it really was like a scene set up for halloween.

i walked down the stairs of my empty apartment and turned into the kitchen. there i stopped dead in my tracks. something wasn't right. i scanned the room. the refrigerator hummed contentedly. the drip, drip, drip of the faucet was the only other sound to be heard. i started over to tighten the fixture but then, out of the corner of my left eye, i saw a small, dark flicker of movement.

no. my heart slithered downward into my stomach, and my stomach clenched around it. i took a deep breath and turned to focus my eyes on the moving thing.

upon a single slat of the vertical blinds crouched a tiny figure, black and imposing. the shadows of his minions moved about in a loathsome dance behind him, shrouding him in a most disturbing grey aura.

i wanted to scream, but i could not.

cockroaches. one had found its way in. the others crawled about on the other side of the glass door, waiting to invade.

bum BUM BUM!
(insert climactic tremolo chord here)

i am now preparing for battle.

update: the sun has set, cloaking the army outside my door in darkness. inside, however, the kitchen is immaculate, and i have blasted their leader with potent neurotoxin. as he dies, legs flailing about in the air, i wonder—what will their response be? i cannot know. as the hum of the enemy platoon crescendoes in my ears, i wait, rubber gloves and bug spray in hand.