Blue Heaven

Part 8

14 March 1982

Sunday 9:00am

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The weather was warming very gradually, but it was warming.

There were patches of sunshine here and there, rather than constant grey mist. The bitter days came and went, but once in a while, the wind would have mercy, and you'd feel the warm sunlight against your skin.

Though, with that the rest of the world was waking up. That meant creatures.

You kept the place clean, put an effort to, but it was an old house. There were cracks.

Some ants would creep onto the counter. You smashed them with kitchen paper.

You hadn't considered yourself so traditional before, maybe it was Paul getting to you, but over these past few weeks, or months... the kitchen, any kitchen you shared, was yours. You were the lady of the house, and that meant you had full control of this room. Creatures of any kind were not welcome!

There was a spider web outside your bedroom window now. It was a habit of yours, whenever you woke up, you would open up the curtains to let the daylight into the room. There you'd see the web. You had grown accustomed to seeing it, and had become familiar with the spider. It was about the size of a coin, brown, with speckles on its back.

Outside bugs were fine. They were within their rights to be there. Separated by glass, it couldn't touch you, and you couldn't touch it. You could coexist. Bugs belonged outside, it was their house, and this was yours. You wouldn't smash an ant that was crawling around outside, it had a right to be there.

You grew empathetic of the bedroom window spider. You hadn't made Paul aware of this, but in the mornings, half asleep, you'd look out the window and think to yourself. Good morning monsieur spider, good morning.

Spiders were good bugs anyway, they ate harmful bugs. Thinking on it, even if this particular spider got in the house, you wouldn't kill it. You were friends with this one. You weren't often kind to bugs in the house, even spiders. Unlike Paul, you had more of a man vs nature position on these things.

You were in the kitchen making breakfast, when you spotted a bug on the counter. You didn't know the types, but it had antennae and a round ugly body.

"Fucker!"

You crushed it under a paper towel.

"Poor thing."

You turned your head. He was behind you in the kitchen entry. The dame of the house. He still had sleep in his face, wearing his pyjama set. He was holding the baby, who looked more awake than him, staring again.

"Come on, It's just a mindless insect." You said. "They're pests. I don't want them anywhere near my cooking space. Just the thought of injecting one makes my stomach turn. The dead ones make my skin crawl even more so than the alive ones. Sitting there completely still, their legs curled up."

Paul's mouth scrunched to the side.

"They're still living beings." He said.

You tossed the wadded up bunch of paper into the bin.

"Mindless ones." You muttered, scrubbing away the mess. "Give it a rest, hippie mouthpiece. We don't have to bend to the will of pests, whatever was put in your head during the peace and love era. Not all animals will be as kind to you as you are to them."

Paul chuckled, coming closer.

"They don't have any idea of right or wrong. All they strive for is survival."