Day 111: Bug Bite

Several days ago I thought I’d managed to get a very fine cut on the base of my thumb. Then I thought I had a bit of dead skin hanging from it and went to snip it free so the cut wouldn’t widen. It wasn’t a piece of dead skin. It was a swelling. It stung to the touch and I thought it must be an ingrown hair, or very odd, some kind of zit (I’ve never had either on my hand).

A day later it had doubled in size and a poke accidentally burst it. Along with all the nasty that came out was a small brown needle-like thing that might have been a hair, a stinger, or part of a proboscis broken off when some bug took a nibble out of me. The base of my thumb swelled up red, and over the course of the day a vein of redness spread up the length of my arm.

I’ve seen it all taken care of and all that’s left now is a red, waxy pucker at the original bite-site. As gross as this whole process has been it’s also been somewhat fascinating. What exactly was going on inside my body? What bit me? What was left behind? How did my immune system respond?

Whatever the case, I’m pretty sure whatever but me is dead now. Hope I tasted good, you creepy little jerk.

Bug Bite

Day 84: Happy Roach

Sat down to do today’s poem, started thinking about the art of animation and all of the different art forms and decisions that go into creating one of those storytelling masterpieces.

Then the largest, happiest cockroach in all of Texas scurried up out of nowhere to the top of my (mercifully empty) travel mug. Any chance of writing about something else went out the window when I squished the happy invader, who was so big and plump his guts soaked through two layers of paper towel.

I’m going to go be sick now.