the roach

i wrote a little short story. here it is.

John Carver could hear his landlord, Tex Gregory, scratching at the door. The landlord was a cockroach and that is the truth in the most literal sense. Six legs, little translucent wings, and antenna that stuck through tiny holes on his even tinier pork pie hat. Pretty soon the scratching was joined by the Tex’s quiet but menacing bark.

"Carver! you in there Carver!? You’re goddamn rent is a month behind! I’m throwing your deadbeat ass out on the street if you ain’t got my money!"

Carver, who was hiding under a dirty gray sheet, was doing his best to try and ignore the situation. The cockroach started in again.

"Carver, I saw your little shit box car parked in the drive! Get out here!"

John thought about what it would be like to crush that bully under his shoe but Tex had told him once that the world only existed in his mind and when it was his time to die the rest of the world would follow him in to the dark. This of course was a foolish notion and carver would have usually ignored such a boast but something in his landlord's insect eyes made him believe it enough to not chance it. After all the man was a talking cockroach.

"This your last chance deadbeat! Open up! Damn it! Open up!"

"Yeah, yeah! OK..." Carver shouted back.

John himself was surprised at the words coming out of his own mouth. He got up and pulled on a ratty old robe he had left hanging from the closet door. He took a quick look into the dresser mirror to try appraise the situation that was his face. John hadn’t shaved for three days and his eyes were red from drinking and staying up much to late. There was also an enormous bruise on the right side of his face. Cynthia’s new boyfriend had given him that little gift the night before when he had show up at her new place drunk and expectant. the new man introduced himself as Tom, had given him a light pummeling and then mentioned something about "kicking his lungs out through his ass" if ever showed up there again. Carver was inclined to believe him. He had seemed like a nice fellow considering the situation though and didn't hold him much ill will. Tex wrapped on the door again.

"Are you coming out her or not asshole?!"

Carver stumbled to the door and opened it. For a moment he thought there was no one there and then he remembered to look down.

"About goddamn time." said the diminutive landlord. "You got my money or not?"

"Not exactly..." Carver mumbled.

"Why the the fuck not?" growled Tex.

"Cynthia left me."

"She left you a month ago and what’s that got to do with me?"

"She was helping out with the rent she..."

"What kind of man lets a woman pay his rent, Carver?" interrupted the cockroach.

John wanted to look down at his feet in shame but Tex was down there so he looked up at the door frame instead. He wasn’t bothered by a woman paying his rent but he hated being reminded that he had basically been living out of Cynthia's pocket for the last year.

Life it seems had creeped up on him and had began to tear away at him. His job delivering newspapers had been first to go. At the time he had shrugged it off. He didn’t enjoy the hours and most of his co-workers were teenagers. Next to go had been the tip of his finger which he had sliced off some how on the edge of an opened tin can of tomato soup. He felt he could taste iron in his mouth for days after deciding to eat the soup anyway. Last had been Cynthia who one day unceremoniously had packed her things and driven away in his old banged up Buick. Carver had guessed the theft of the car had been some sort of ransom for the unpaid debt he still owed her. Last night he had gone back after his beating and stolen the car back. This was his first victory in a long while but now there was this literal bug of a man standing before him, trying to take his home too.

"I’ll get you the money Tex..." Carver said.

"Oh, bull shit!" exploded the cockroach. "You’ve used up all your excuses. You have till midnight to get your shit out before i call the sheriff."

"You can't do this!" carver pleaded. "I can have it by tonight."

John tried to think of something, anything to make the situation more bearable. He tried to think of what Cynthia would do but could only picture the stern face of her new beau. He also tried to think of a way to make good on his promise to get the money. He didn't think he would make much of a stick up man and an honest days work wouldn't make him the kinda of money he needed.

"I can do anything I want! I don't want your money! I want you out! I may be a roach but you sir are a worm!" roared Tex.

This was too much for Carver. He began to think about what rude little insect had once told him about the world ending with him. He looked at the tiny bug wearing the pork pie hat, lifted up his leg and smashed Tex Gregory with his barefoot. The world went out like a light.