no. 17 : A Letter to a Wasp

Dear big aggressive red wasp,

Why did you build your nest by my front door?

Why must you greet me with an angry flurry as if I am an attacker, an invader, when you were the one who chose the locale of your new domicile?

I am simply arriving home. I do not brandish a weapon, just my keys, the one to the door of my house evading me as I—in a panic—endeavor not to be stung by you or let you inside.

Do not sting my head, dear insect. I have no hair and the welt would be unsightly, adversely affecting my dating adventures. I would be forced to wear a hat and my grandmother raised me better than to wear one indoors.

Do not come into my house. There would be no rest for either of us. You would find refuge in the vaulted ceiling of my living room rendering yourself nigh impossible to kill and so we would become reluctant roommates. Furthermore, you would see my ceiling fan as a threat, I am sure. This churning monstrosity, a foe you could never vanquish. Only frustration awaits you inside my door.

And so I will do what I must. Armed with a can of foaming spray, donned in lab goggles and a medical mask and rubber gloves, I will kill you.

I don't want to. It's not personal. It is simply that you and I can not live in close proximity. There is no peace between a man and the wasp who has built her nest by his front door.


Popular Posts