Step

Another Thursday night, I thought as I unlocked the door to my apartment and felt my place hostage by the summer heat. The dishes in the sink were a crawling creature with ceramic discs for tentacles making its way across the kitchen counter and soon unto the floor. Flies buzzed somewhere in the dining room and I almost walked back out.

Back out to where?

A gentle lapping wave of anxiety hit me from the left and I leaned against the quietly-gurgling refrigerator. A bug was crawling on the back of my neck before I reached for it and brought it to my eyes. It was about one-third of an inch in size. Dark brown with a hint of cobalt blue. Its little legs waving hello.

 

Maybe his parents are waiting eagerly for him at home? I wondered.

He will not be arriving today…or any other day, I thought as I dropped him and stepped on him slowly. His crunch reminded me of loose gravel.

 

Sometimes I get stepped on.

Other times I do the stepping.

∞