Thursday, April 14, 2011

murder, I write

A confession:

I was getting ready for bed tonight – brushing my teeth, washing my face, doing De Niro impressions in the mirror (it's like, of COURSE I'm lookin' at me! Hahahaahaaaaaugh) – and glanced over to see some sowbugs creepin' on my window sill. This wasn't a huge surprise, as it's the spring thaw and they like the warm, moist conditions of the basement bathroom (hey did you know that sowbugs are crustaceans just like lobsters and that they breath through gills?? They live on LAND and they breath through GILLS. Now you've heard evvverryything!) If you don't know what a sowbug is, move your lazy fingers and google search one. Do it now.

I don't get freaked out by bugs unless it's a gigantic-spawn-of-satan-spider hiding in my bath towel (true story), so when I saw the sowbugs, I casually grabbed some toilet paper and wiped the three of them off of the sill, then tossed 'em in the toilet, taking fleeting notice of them as they flushed away. Then I continued brushing my teeth.

And I started thinking.

"Yeeeepp. Three sowbugs. Silly ol' sowbugs. The one was pretty big. Other one, not so much. Third one was pretty small, almost like a... baby. It was almost as if they were some sort of a...    faaaammmilllyyy..."

Freeze. *Deep breath*


I flushed a family of sowbugs, you guys. I am the harbinger of tragic family sowbug doom. I continued guiltily brushing my teeth, the moral conflict crashing against the fact that they were just fucking bugs. As the bedevilled guilt washed over me, I glanced up at the window sill one more time. BEHOLD! A teensy tiny sowbug. Smaller than the smallest one that I had flushed. An infant sowbug. A survivor. Alone. Without its family which I had just flushed. Against the world, and against me, a recently certifiable sowbug killing machine.

I don't know if it looked at me. I don't know where their eyes are so it was impossible to tell. But a ray of beauty shone into my murderous and guilt-ridden heart.

"Go, little sowbug. Go. Live and be free. When you are old enough, you may find me and take your revenge. I'll be waiting for you, and we will face each other, bug-to-human, eye-to-thing you somehow see out of. Even if it's just you falling off of the shower wall and washing down the drain without me even noticing you, your life and inevitable death have won my respect. GO! Seize your sowbug days and live like no sowbug has ever lived before! If this were an "unlikely tragic pairing" movie, I might take you under my wing and raise you as my own, burdened your entire life with my dark and harrowing secret. You would play in the park with my human children, and we'd laugh because backpacks would look idiotic on you. Eventually you would find an old photo (a selfer of me flushing your family) and confront me, and the strength of our love would be tested to the breaking point. You would drive off of a cliff in a tear-blinded fury, and I would be left alone on the precipice, heartbroken, wondering how the hell you ever figured out how to drive a car, and confused about where your tears were coming from, since I never did find out where your eyes were."

Raise fist skyward. Fade to black.