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  • Photo by Steve Lodefink

    The first time it happened, I couldn’t believe my eyes, in fact, I rubbed them twice to focus and refocus. It was an army of creepy, crawly roaches that made the walls of my studio apartment come alive. Kafka had nothing on me.

    After that, it always happened, as soon as the fluorescent bulb of the kitchen lamp flickered on, an infantry of roaches scattered and ran in every direction. They skydived from the refrigerator onto the counter tops, expertly tumbled and jumped into the stale water in the sink then swam like triathletes across the whirlpool created when I unplugged the sink. They braved the stove top fire heat and walked carefully between the walls and the floors to prevent me from stepping on them..It was enough to impress me. These roaches were special force elite.

    After a few months of living with the best, I found myself walking the sidewalks with minimal person-to-person contact, parallel parking into the tightest spaces like a pro, getting to and fro before the parking meters expired. I became adept to driving in monstrous traffic. I was moving masterfully through the city. My asthmatic lungs even adapted to the filthy air until I could longer taste the pollution.
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