Me vs. the Cockroach



Me vs. the Cockroach


 I have to say that cockroaches are a daily occurrence in these parts. You can see them scuttling across the sidewalks or legs-side-up on the stairs. We have tried so many methods to evict them from our apartment, yet they always leave something behind–its shell, a nest, a lone survivor scampering.

I don't doubt that they will far outlive us. They are incredibly resilient and make homes out of anything, anywhere. They are the past and future of this planet.

Just recently I found one in my purse. Actually, it was the second time one had taken refuge there, but I'm not sure it was the same roach. I imagine it crawled in m,y purse because I often leave it on the floor. I have to applaud this insect on its ingeniousness. Would I have thought that a pocket in a purse could double as a hiding place?

Of course, that wasn't my first thought upon meeting the roach. Wonderment set in after the screaming and tarantella-type dance.

As I said, I am used to bumping into cockroaches, but it's one thing on the street and quite another to put my hand in my purse and feel something cool yet quite alive. I started shouting and twirling around. Then I felt little legs tickling my skin....ah, the panic!

"Get it off, get it off!" I called out. But there was no one to save me.

And that's where our dance began. I threw down the purse, dumping out all the contents, emptying all the pockets. But no cockroach. Then, a chilling thought came...what if it's...on me? I quickly scan my skirt, my top, inside my shoes...nothing. I gather my courage and stand in front of my bedroom mirror. There it is, clutching onto the strap of my tank top.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh!

I run into the kitchen and grabbed the first thing I saw (a pen) to try and flick it off. But no–it holds on even harder and sneaks under my strap. "What if it goes under my shirt, onto my skin?" I thought.

It was utter panic for both of us. The roach scampered away after I released its hold and I followed it with a broom. Then, it took hold of a chair and scooted up one of its legs.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh!

I grab the chair and put it down in front of the main door, but the cockroach deftly hopped off and scurried back into the house and behind the shoe rack.

I brought the chair back in and closed the door, defeated.

As I contemplated my next move, the insect scuttled across my vision once again. Hope gave me strength and I swept at it. It hung onto the brush for dear life. I swung open the door and bat the broom on the floor. It hopped off and we stared at each other. I hurried back into my apartment and slammed the door.

Panting, I leaned against the broom. I giggled as I heard my heart racing. I was glad the roach was alive, just not in my apartment.

Cockroach: 0 Me: 1


Photo: <a href="https://pixabay.com/es/users/jamesdemers-3416/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=54584">JamesDeMers</a> en <a href="https://pixabay.com/es//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=54584">Pixabay</a>


Text: kristen Mastromarchi

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