couldn't snow yet. I wouldn't let it.

 

        I tried the idea of catching the flakes before they came down and piled up. Blankets to capture the nasty craze stuff. Extra strength harbors gathering layers of white stuff.

 

        Lifting five electric blankets from my bed, I crawled into a corner, edging next to the woodwork carefully.

 

        An insect seemed to be in no hurry. The carpet was a problem. Up and down. It was so little. I was terrified. It was coming to raid me. I didn't know what to do. Little bug with its little feet; were there any toenails? It came down from somewhere. Uncover a board next to a door and see thousands. One headed my way. I could kill it. Shaking in petrification I didn't want to kill it. I stared at it.

 

        It had come to hurt me. Crawl over my skin. Get into my blankets and never get it. Crawling somewhere I couldn't see, but he'd be there. Lurking somewhere. To get me.

 

        If I tried to kill it, I may miss. Then he'd really be mad. But hen how do I know it is a "he", what if it is a girl. If I missed, it'd really come after me. Jump on me, make me itch all over. Feel creepy. Can it shit on me. I itch more at the prospect. My face tingles. I scratch my scalp. In case it gets in my hair. Then I'd have to squish it between my fingers. I didn't want to do that.

        I couldn't think of anything. My mind was blank. Except the fear I felt over the bug, who was closer, inch by inch. If I get something to hit him with then he may hide, be out of sight when I would return ready to kill.

        A loud snap and he was dead.

        A noise, loud, scattered, sang a patchy tune. Sounding familiar. There was a slight monotone sound in the background. Mood music. Accompaniments. I figured two routes for getting away. Neither would work. I knew they wouldn't work. I hurt my ear. Accidentally pulled an earring out. The hole, newly formed, will close now. I knew it would.

RIVER BED   38

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