searingedrock | (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.