The co-inhabitant of my bathroom stared at me. Six hours ago I naively thought it to be dead. Alas! What a rookie mistake that turned out to be. It calmly lay there, sunbathing like a model with one leg lazily stretched into the air, basking in the afternoon sun. It appeared so still and calm. As though it heard my inner monologue, its antenna began twitching.
I had made my acquaintance with this roach last night. It was haunting my sink, an unappealing brown stain against the porcelain. I managed one good hit at it with a broom, its seemingly limp body slipped into a crevice between the sink and the ledge and landed on the floor.
I was reluctant to dispose the creepy crawly cockroach then; it had seemed fascinating to watch. After a few hours I brought a newspaper to get rid of it. But suddenly, like Rasputin it sprung to life and scurried away.
What an evil mastermind! Not allowing me to mind my business, it had stretched out in front of me feigning death, and after it’d warmed up to its cold presence it reveals its true nature.
Like an incompetent child I had to get help to seal its fate and dispose of its mortal remains. I’d be willing to wager that at the end of the universe, cockroaches will be all that remains.
Sankalpa Venkatraghavan 