Thursday, 02 May 2002 | Outdoor fresh

Standing in the bathroom getting ready for work this morning, I caught a glimpse of a narrow wood-brown body dart and freeze, its antennae feeling around in the air. First, I grabbed a wad of toilet paper and held it up like I was about to throw a baseball. Delicately moving objects on the shelves with the other hand, quickly jumping back again, hoping to pounce on it with my paper baseball. No good. I armed myself with the can of Raid from underneath the kitchen sink, but, even though the can claims it is "outdoor fresh," I decided not to spray it all over the toothbrushes and toilet paper and into my lungs. Fifteen minutes I danced with that roach, until I looked at the clock, gasped at the time, threw my things together, and ran out the door. As far as I know, it's still in there, clinging to the bottom of a shelf, waving its antennae and procreating.

Hours later, same room, Martin caught a house fly in his bare hands and set it free outside.