(no subject)

The avocado tree has termites, mom said.  These were what she called subterranean termites, burrowing deep underground, eating at everything, even concrete.  At least in my young mind I envisioned them as millions of tiny nanobot destroyers, and I would wake up one day with an arm or leg chewed off.  I remember accidentally knocking the top of my closet and it caved right in; hollow.  Inside were the creatures, nondescript, lightly coloured things, fat, with a sheen.  They had found their way from hell right into my bedroom.  Nothing was safe.  I became obsessed and followed the termite trail along the cupboard corners, the wall, down to the floor and out the back window where it wound away to a nest I imagined, under the house.  I took mom's termite spray and doused the cupboard, the walls, the corners and ceilings.  I was 10.  I imagined them on my body and had trouble sleeping.