Monster House

Just a little something I wrote a month and a half back when college was still on and this aimless feeling of not being associated with any institution was not.

After a much-needed and much-deserved three-day break from college (good things do come in threes, after all) I dug at the pile of clothes hanging on a nail at the back of my door for my pair of jeans. Much to my consternation though, a big brown spider had made the crotch of my denims his abode. I marveled at the intricate web for a while, staring stupidly at it and wondering how to demolish it, if at all I should. I mean, I’m sure Mr. Spidey worked really hard on it. Heck, I thought, I have to reach class on time for once. “Dude, get out, those are my Live-ins, not yours!” I muttered, vigorously shaking the pair. Obviously startled, Mr Spidey dove for the ground, scuttled away, and lo! joined another spider at the back of my dresser. Wow, some reunion, I thought and then it struck me just how frequent my trysts with the insect inhabitants of my room had gotten. And then there was Martha (the bathroom lizard) lying squat in the middle of the bath tub. That really was the last straw. And it was also the moment I realized I detest summers. Not because of the heat, or because it is sweaty. Not because I look fat in summer clothes. Not even because it reeks when the metro is crowded. But because of the insects and reptiles that seize my house with no scruples whatsoever; those hopping, gliding, climbing, slithering MONSTERS.