CLEAN HOUSE
Clean House
It was one of those sundry days when the tenant plays landlords and clamps down on illegal occupants. I am both a humble and proud owner of a one-room apartment and I try to keep up with the bills. Sadly, other many occupants of a room meant for one do not pull their own weight.
So one bright sunny day, I hire myself as a task force armed with flamethrowers, batons and diverse artillery. Operation CLEAN HOUSE; the battle is fierce. I’m badly outnumbered but they are badly out-gunned. Limbs divorce limb, sweatdrop after drop. Hide and seek, chase and neutralize. I did not rest till the only sound left in this alcove was my beating heart.
Many dawns after, I’m trying to distract myself as my automated bowel system empties itself in the white house when suddenly, I catch movement from the side of my eyes. It’s a monster, it’s a zombie, it’s alive.
A spider robbed of all limbs save twain…and a half tenaciously clutches to one tile as though frozen by my gaze . Reason punctuates my rage as I contemplate a coup de grace.
I pause just in time to get lost in thought. If this arachnid with a grain-sized excuse for a brain yet tethers to life in spite of what same life has done to it, howbeit that members of the Homo sapien whose arrogate to themselves the highest sophistication of evolutionary complexity yet contemplate and execute suicide…all limbs intact.
As I ponder still, I’m rudely interrupted by the stray thought of how late for work I’m already getting. Dashing into the bathroom, my ruminations are suspended to be regurgitated later.
8:16am
9th Sept., 2016.
[irp posts=”1705″ name=”#ThePinkMonth – Never Allow Difficult Tenants”]
