last night i woke up.
[there's not a lot else you can do when you're asleep.]
i scratched my nose and felt something squish beneath my fingers.
i sat straight up, flipped on the light, and stared at the dead centipede [milipede? christopher walken?] lying on my pillow.
"what's up, suzy?"
i flicked the bug off the bed, shuddering at the thought of it crawling across my face.
"it was a bug..."
"oh. a bug? you ok?"
"it walked on my pillow."
i don't know. i just felt like i should share that on here. it felt fitting.
like a red woolen sweatshirt.