So I ate spiders.
And flies. And silverfish. And cockroaches. And ants. And anything else that showed up. Catching a rat was like Christmas dinner.
Years passed, I guess. I stopped keeping track. Toward the end there, though, I couldn’t really tell what was what no more. I can’t remember when I started seeing things, but I started seeing things. Entire cities demolished by a ball of fire. Houses swallowed by earthquakes. Children snatched from porches. At first, I knew it wasn’t real, then I thought it might be real, then I wasn’t sure no more, and at a certain point, it didn’t matter. There it was, and I was seeing it, so it was real.
And then one day the guy came back.
I was standing on my bed trying to coax a roach into my cupped hand when the knock came at the door again. I eyeball
