An Email Exchange With the Cockroach I Killed

Forgive me, Father. For I have sinned.

Dear Cockroach I killed in my kitchen last night,

I’m sorry I killed you because I was scared of you. I’m sorry I was so scared of your gross little body. I’m sorry I had to kill you twice. You just didn’t die with the first attempt. I’m sorry we called the same place home and that I got to live in my bigger, less-gross body and you had to die because of your gross little body. I feel really badly about this whole thing and I hope you can forgive me.



Dear Tatti (I don’t know you very well, I’m not gonna call you “T”),

I wish I could accept your “apology,” but I can’t, because you didn’t really apologize, did you? It doesn’t count as an apology if it’s so obviously wrapped in insults. It’s not your fault you’re so afraid of something that’s literally 1/1000th the size of you. That’s a human thing. Just like my “gross little body” is a cockroach thing. We cockroaches can’t do much. We can’t fly and we can’t jump, we can just crawl really, really fast. . .and considering the grander scheme of things, it’s not even that fast. You could have caught me if you wanted to. You could have put me outside somewhere. As for the multiple attempts at murder, at least you put me out of my misery. Turns out, being dead is way better than being almost dead. Also, turns out I can reach people from the other side. . .and I learned how to type.


The Kitchen Cockroach

Dear KC (can I call you KC? Let’s just say YES to nicknames),

I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough to do a catch-and-release sort of thing. I didn’t want to hurt you. I did want to kill you though, and looking back at it (with a deep, deep regret, I swear) I know that what I really wanted was to just remove you from the part of my home where I cook and where I eat. Fear for you was an immature response. You’re alive just like me and the older I get, the more I realize that I have to do things I don’t want to do. So, again, I’m sorry. I mean it. I won’t act out the same way in the future.



Dear Tatti (NO to nicknames, please stop trying to make this happen),

It’s fine. Glad I could be an example for future roaches. Glad you learned something. Please stop contacting me, this is exchange is getting boring.

Goodbye (forever),

The Kitchen Cockroach