The Floormate

“Which ones you got?” I asked, instantly recognizing an opportunity to investigate.

We stepped inside the room. Afterward, we fell into vinyl beanbag chairs. The tarantula picked at the terrarium with one of its fuzzy, ringed legs. It was tapping the glass, eagerly, as if to say, “Hi. I know how I must creep you out. But I’m-friendly.”

Still, I wasn’t going anywhere near it.

“Is he hungry? Should you feed it some of those ants?” I asked the floormate, witnessing an uncountable number of them loitering near the kitchen trash.

“Oh, hello sweetie!” he said, excitedly.

He found a Tupperware bin of dead crickets. He dropped three in the tank.





About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)