There are cockroaches on the first floor of our building. I live on the third floor, and on my way to work I walk through the mob of them, dancing all over the place. It's like a little morning celebration.
Every once in a while I think the bloodstain on the stairwell wall is a giant cockroach, and I panic and stop in my tracks. The baby cockroaches scurry frantically around my feet, worshiping their giant cockroach king. Should I throw my bag at it? Should I race past? But then I realize oh good, it's just that bloodstain.
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