June 3, 2026

It Was Late Afternoon When I Froze and Told Myself: ‘Stop! Don’t Kill That House Centipede!’

The morning came too soon, the light filtering through the blinds casting stripes on the floor.

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Jamie was already up, sipping coffee and scrolling through the phone.

I joined at the table, the silence between us heavy.

The appointment was set for mid-morning, and I felt the minutes slipping away.

The pest control specialist would arrive soon, and with them, the end of my uneasy alliance with the centipedes.

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I needed to decide if I would say anything, try to spare them.

But what could I say that wouldn’t sound ridiculous?

Jamie seemed oblivious to my inner turmoil, focused on the screen.

The clock ticked loudly in the quiet room, each second a reminder of what was coming.

Finally, Jamie spoke, breaking the silence.

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