—I CAN’T STAND THE RAIN

 

Death of Spiders

“As of May 2025, Isreal has dropped over 100,000 tons of explosives on Gaza in less than two years. During WW2, the Nazis dropped a total of 18,300 tons on London, 8,500 tons on Hamburg, and 3,900 tons on Dresden.” –The New York Times 

 

The night before, watching Bibi bomb Gaza for the millionth like it was a game you play when you’re bored but indifferent and don’t want to masturbate, I threw a can at the TV, noticing it bounce off onto the carpet, spilling a trail of foaming beer that hissed as it sank down into the fabric, and because blood is thicker than water, it seemed to dry faster than usual.

The next morning, I killed a spider almost first thing after getting out of bed, a black oval pendant with hairlike legs. It scrabbled up the side of the sink while I was brushing my teeth after I’d taken a piss, and it spooked me, this creepy breathing creature right there, clinging almost weightlessly to the porcelain, so I grabbed a Kleenex from my wife’s side of the counter and folded it like a soldier might a flag for another soldier who’s been killed in action.

It didn’t make a sound when I took its life, it didn’t moan or scream, say “I’m a mother, too” or “I’m just a child like the ones you have in your house.” It didn’t say anything because it couldn’t, and to be honest, I didn’t want it to. I didn’t even think about it again until much later because right then I realized I needed to piss again.