and yet another freewrite....
Dunno if I've mentioned this, but we have 5-10 minutes to write these things, and we're not supposed to make corrections. This time, the prompt was, "I would not like to be reborn a cockroach.'' I dedicate it to storyfan , to cheer her up after my "I'm fine" post. It's my first venture into bookverse, such as it is....
“I would not like to be reborn a cockroach,” Timmy said, watching with horrified fascination as Donald pulled off a shoe and dropped to his knees, stalking the insect as it scurried across the kitchen floor.
“Shhhh! You’ll spook him,” Donald not-quite-whispered. “Besides, I didn’t think Catholics were all that much into the whole reincarnation scene.”
“We’re not. I’m simply speculating. Just think what a sad life it would be, lurking in dark corners, scraping out a bare-bones existence, knowing that getting caught means getting killed.”
The roach paused in mid-scurry, seeming to ponder this. Donald slowly raised the shoe in the air above it, face contorted in an exaggerated, one-eyed squint as he took aim, tongue-tip poking out from between his lips, breath held, and….
“Come to think of it, it rather reminds me of someone I know,” Timmy said just as the shoe came down on the floor a good three inches from its target. The roach looked at Donald and Donald looked at the roach. The roach wriggled its antennae. Donald wriggled his eyebrows. They called it a draw.
Later that night, once the exterminator had been called and they'd stopped in for drinks with friends, Donald would swear the roach stuck its tongue out at him and blew a raspberry. Timmy would dispute this, of course. But on one thing they both agreed: the roach looked both amused and faintly disgusted just before it disappeared under the counter.
Donald thought it might have been a Kennedy, but Timmy wasn't so sure.