Recently I moved to Georgia. It’s a nice place. But it seems like everywhere I go there are bugs. At home, at work. I have even come to embrace them. Like I’m king of the bugs or something. I am their king and they are my royal subjects. They enter by castle after a long day’s work and travel. For their feet are tiny but their will is strong.
They come asking for safety from the night. Safety from the beasts that lurk in the shadows. The giant green beast with a tongue that can swipe up hundreds. It can leap down from the sky. The legend of the Toad. There is another beast. It owns the sky and feasts on my people. The bird.
The night is scary but the storms are nearly as bad. When the water floods down my people’s cities and destroys them. It’s either that or the heat dries up the water and there is no food. It’s a feast or famine. Do you kill the starving beggar who steals food from your home? No. Then why would you kill an insect who does the same?
I bet I made you feel for the insects inside your home. You’re fucking disgusting. They’re bugs. And bugs are only good for one thing. Squashing.
This has been a short story by Zachary Will in preparation of his new book, Exterminator’s Assistant.