A CONVERSATION WITH A BUG RIGHT BEFORE I KILL IT
Please don’t, it says, as though it has
a wife and a family to feed.
I’m surprised by the fact that
it can even talk in the first place.
I blink my eyes and let
surprise bubble forth, unsure of
how to feel.
Can you hear me?
I can hear you, it says irritatedly,
I hear the creak of your knees
whenever you stand up from
your desk at midnight.
I don’t go to bed at midnight, I say
but it is already a lost cause
as the bug flaps its wings,
delightful and grotesque.
REALLY UGLY DOG
When I was small my grandmother had this really
ugly dog who was so mangy and chewed up—
horrible little guy really—
that I was convinced he had rabies.
He bit me eventually and I was rushed
to the hospital with tears in my parents' eyes.
None in mine because I was a
Madeleine Tomasoa (they/them) is a Best Microfiction Nom. They are the EIC for Koening Zine and a CNF reader for Pidgeonholes. They are currently hurtling towards space. Twitter: @madeleinetms.