1523

Killed a cockroach when I first came up to write. Followed it across the room whacking it with a book as it ran. Because it was running along the floor (and therefore at a bad angle for book-whacking) and because it was so early (and I did not want to wake the family), I did not strike with my full fury, but only verified that it was lying on its back, legs twitching. Then, because I needed to write, I went back to my laptop and got to work.

When I finished I looked over and the roach was gone. Sometime during my writing session he clicked those little mechanical legs and then with the precision of a wind-up toy he popped back over onto his stomach and scuttled away into a dark corner.

I do not feel good about this. Time to call in the bug man. If this were Vietnam I would order a napalm strike.