i live in a building that was built in 1910.  there is no dishwasher, no microwave, and the carpet hasn't been updated since the 70's. the electricity is finicky and today the single light bulb in the bathroom has decided not to work.  i've left the door open and the light that filters in is dim; just enough to see which soap bottle i am grabbing but not enough to make out detail.  i'm not that far into my shower, humming to myself and enjoying the warm water, when i notice a sharp pain in my calf.  i rotate my foot and decide to ignore it--i probably nicked myself shaving.  i keep showering, and that pinching pain persists--enough so that i finally do look down, bending my leg at the knee to try and get a closer glimpse. i can see something in my calf, but it is dark, frustratingly so. i turn off the shower and grab a towel, my feet slipping a little on the tile. stepping out into the hallway, i look down and let out a little shriek--there's something sticking out of my calf, something dark and shiny, with two points like a scorpion's tail. it seems to be pulsing, but just barely, and i reach down to touch it, but stop. i can't do it.  a whimper escapes from my throat, and my vision seems to narrow down to a single pinprick of light.  my ears ring, i feel a cold sweat run down my back, and i faint.


  1. WHAT WAS IT!! Are you okay? You can't tell HALF A STORY!

  2. I think this story would be better if you somehow involved a cat.

  3. Silly girl. That was MY story! That's cute how you made it to sound like it was you. Hahaha. What really sucks is that I missed the shuttle that morning and then missed my plane and am now stuck thumbing it back to SLC so that I can get home, all the while dragging my leg along with a scorpion tail hanging off it and (of course) a cat chasing me pawing and clawing at the whipping tail of the scorpion. Oh, what a tale to tell!


oh, hey!

i think you're smart, pretty, and entitled to your own opinions.

i'd love it if the feeling was mutual!