Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Busy hunting a cockroach. The last few were found dead. The sheer vigor coursing through this one makes it the scion, roach heir to all that’s been sown by my Tuesday stress. I’ve never seen an insect with such cunning, feigning death in a poor bid to outplay the game. Its legs give it unholy speed. But can it swim? You lose, little buddy, you lose.