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Fumigator of Souls

October 15, 2017

My neighbor behind me is a slob, Exterminators have told me so much. The man never cleans his apartment. His place is infested with bugs. My bathroom and his kitchen share the plumbing and the east wall. Cockroaches come through the plaster and between wooden beams. They squeeze under un-stuck caulk and into my bathtub.

When they stare up at me, each pressing themselves up onto a slanted, six-legged stance, I sometimes think, “If reincarnation were true, and there was a karma that only the sacrifice of life satisfies, I think they beg me for death.

Sure, a last surge of self-preservation overcomes them all before each are squashed, but they go to a better life, I suppose. If it all were true, I make believe I satisfy karma in acting as their executioner. And as an atheist, I have no concern for an afterlife of my own. In my time on earth, I become a remorseless fumigator of souls.

 

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