Nonsense.
It’s only 27 degrees and I’m freezing already. I hate to imagine how I’m going to put up with winter.
—
Dear Mr. Centipede:
After exposing myself to pictures of you for the past 24 hours, I think my fear of you has waned a little bit, especially since you’re not particularly vicious to humans. However, I am now almost sure those bites on the back of my neck I got when I was sleeping were made by you. Since you have eyes, I am going to assume that you at least know you should be staying away from my bed. Those bites happened the first few weeks I moved in, and it hasn’t happened anymore, so I do hope we’ll keep it that way.
Also, I promise not to kill you on sight if you would go up to the apartment above me and scare the shit out of the guy living there. The asshole plays heavy metal right in the middle of the night, his footsteps are like a giant’s, so I would like some retribution. I will be very grateful if you did so.
Thank you.
Elaine
