brni (brni) wrote,

in the basement

There is a cricket in the basement. It is one of those big, black, sorta weird-shaped crickets that don't tend to chirp much. It hangs out in amongst the piles of laundry.

Post-Balticon, there's a lot of laundry. I've been working on rectifying that. Every time I come down, I startle the poor cricket. It makes huge leaps across the basement.

It is the nature of laundry that some wet stuff is heavier than other wet stuff, and when stuff of like water density clings together, bad things happen.

The banging of the washing machine throbs beneath the floorboards, and I rush downstairs, flipping on the light as I go. Bang. Bang. Bang.

The cricket, totally freaked out, is in the middle of the floor, frantically leaping into the air each time the washing machine bangs. It can't even figure out where it is going, just hopping into the air. As soon as I lift the lid on the machine and the banging stops, it orients itself, and then leaps into a safe corner.

I tell Linda this story, and she says, "Now you're torturing crickets? You are a horrible man."
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