Wednesday, July 27, 2005


By the time my rounds bring me to the storage room, it was already waiting inside.

I stand by the doorway to regard the ugly representative of the lifeform that has brought so much fear, misery and death to mankind. From where it's casually perched, it seems to watch me. Calculating if I'd be able to use the metal cylinder in my hand before it makes it's move.

It had been a long war.

There are days when I'd wonder if humans would ever win.

And there are nights when I'd almost know we've lost long ago.

If the other humans have had similar thoughts, no one has spoken it out loud. Chalk it up to the resillience of the human spirit and all that.

The war goes on. Its scale global. Winner gets the fucking planet. Or gets it back. It's all a matter of perspective, I suppose.

A heartbeat lasts for an eon.

Then, the creature makes it's move. It lanches from its perch and, in pure malice, flies straight towards me. On behalf of humanity, I stand my ground.

Tonight, one of us will die. And, fuck, it wasn't going to be me.

Millions of years worth of evolution had given it wings. Well, evolution had given my kind fingers.

I take aim. And squeeze the trigger.

* * *

The blast of insecticide catches the cockroach mid-flight, and knocks it back against the wall.

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