I swallowed some of Cairo’s “coffee” and passed the mug back to him. When they come to smash us to glooey bits, I hope they’ll give me a second to glare at Cairo and say, “I told you,” before we become mush underneath their bendy black legs.Ĭairo thinks I’m insane. They know the day will come, and they are awaiting it with evil anticipation. Not that I was particularly sympathetic towards insects-in fact, I hated them-but I knew, I just knew, that one day, when the turn tables and all the bugs get giant and come ravaging to step on us humans like we’ve killed their ancestors countless times before-I knew that would be the day that Cairo’s unforgivable deed would make us all pay.Ĭall me crazy, but I’ve seen it in their little bug eyes. While I waited for the bread to toast, Cairo and I sipped his monstrosity of a mug of coffee (half of it was hazelnut creamer, and the other half was honey), passing it between us as was our custom on Sunday mornings, and any other morning, really, except that one time when I was mad at him for killing a stinkbug that’d made its way into the apartment. I sighed and pulled another slice of bread out from the humid plastic bag, lowering the toaster's temperature a bit before popping it in. She began cronching it with the kind of vigor only a corgi can have-if you own one, you’ll know. I turned up my lip and dropped it on the floor for our dog Dapper. Cairo and I were making breakfast one morning, when my toast burnt.
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