Watchman

by Terence Winch

The exterminator was here again today.

He says he’s got a bad heart and his knees are shot.

We discuss mice and termites. I show him photos

of the bugs that came through the ceiling molding

one night last month when the temperature

went down to seven degrees. There was also

freezing rain. He says in thirty years of exterminating

creatures, he’s never seen a bug like this before.

He says not to worry about it. They probably won’t

be back. He’s getting a watchman implant next week.

He thinks I should get one too. I’m inclined to agree.

But I don’t know what he’s talking about.