Sunday, October 25, 2009

The wasp is dead.

Not even 3 minutes ago, I killed a wasp on the second floor of the library by the large floor-to-ceiling windows.

I look up from my computer where I am working on a book review towards the window. Behold! A wasp! We can't have a wasp in the library! The girls a few feet away from me are looking at it and chittering anxiously. I go to attack the thing with my book, but, you know, they have stingers, so I'm hesitant and I try to be careful while smashing it with my book. After a few beatings, it falls to the ground. I take the spine of my book to it so as to crush it. Millie throws me her Chaco shoe and I clobber the wasp. WahA! It is dead! Just at this moment, I realize how loud I've been. The smacking of the book, the laughs of the girls beside me, my suppressed yells of "Don't fly away," "I've got you now, my pretty," and "Ahh!" made quite a ruckus. I straighten up from my position on the floor and look around. 12 people are staring at me. Just like in the movies. "The wasp is dead!" I say, and they slowly return to their studying.


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