The Centipede
There is a creature in the sink. It has about 50 legs on each side of its long, light brown, bendy body with tiny hairs that look like peach fuzz. The devil has come for me, or perhaps just a run of the mill house centipede has lost its way.
It has antennae protruding majestically out of the front and back of its body, twice as long as its legs. It can’t see well, but navigates its way with those ever-busy information-grabbing antennae. It tries to escape the damp porcelain walls of my dirty sink still scattered with some of last night’s leftovers. I tried to count its legs but the little demon is moving too quick and erratic. 15. It looks to be about 15 hairy legs on each side. Wow, 30 little legs. Imagine having all of that mobility. Shame though – all those legs and no exits for miles. It makes an inch of progress as it climbs up the slippery side only to slide back down again. It repeats this process over and over. Am I cruel to watch its failure or just curious?
I wonder what purpose the centipede serves here. Will it still be attempting to escape its watery prison once I finish writing or will it have slithered its way out into a crack in the wall, lurking and waiting in the soothing calm of a near-empty house, ready to pounce and swallow me whole?
Oh, I love how a two-inch long insect who has crawled its way out of the bowels of my kitchen pipes and into the light of this sunshiny Wednesday could spark creativity in me again. I think I’ll leave it alone for now as I’m running out of my coveted morning time and need to go make the donuts. If this nasty thing making my arm hair stand on end is still fumbling around confused when I get home this afternoon, I’ll do a photo shoot then set it free.
Well, he was still there and I had forgotten about him the moment I left the house. I had to experience my earlier horror all over again when I rediscovered him creeping around my sink. Shiver.
I put a paper towel in its general direction, he happily climbed aboard, and I hurriedly placed him in a deep (hopefully deep enough) mixing bowl before he could jump off onto my skin and eat me.
The sun is shining hot and intensely on my backyard porch. Light! It’s a perfect place for picture taking. Snap, snap, snap. This slippery serpent looks exquisitely beautiful somehow to me now. Perhaps he (or she) is not a devil that’s paid me a visit, but just one of God’s creatures who got sidetracked while looking for a place to lay her eggs.
It’s the little things.