Battle Royale

It was dinnertime. It was sit down with the family over spinach, rice, and kafta time. I didn't know how quickly kafta would become kafka.

This cockroach was magnificent. I mean truly, it was beautiful, in a shiny, glistening, grotesque way. I could count the spines branching off of each leg segment. I could see the long, curving antennas sweep over the underside of the food pan, where it was motionless. My mom and my sister left the kitchen, as I stood there, designer sandal (my sister's) in each hand. It was me and the bug.

I slowly moved everything in the area away, leaving just the pan on the stovetop and two empty counters framing it. My nemesis continued to taunt me, too close to the food to assault with bug spray, and at too odd an angle to straight on attack. I knew the designer sandals just werent going to cut it.

So I grab the knife sharpener. Its got the handle of a knife, but has a metal cylinder instead of the blade for sharpening. I grab it by the metal, ready to wield it as a club. I knew that this would be useless if the cockroach moved onto the counter, for the counter is the domain of a large surface area, light weapon. Like a designer sandal. This needed to take only one hit. And it did.

A sharp, quick sideways swing at the pan, with the designer sandals at the ready, and it was gone. Not actually gone, its remants ended up on the stove, and some legs made it to the floor. It had nothing on me.

Other than that, only 11 days until the real adventure starts, Australia.