There are too many of them. Multiplying so goddamn much. They're like my math teacher: she was struck by a bus, a car, slipped on ice and broke an arm, an ambulance hit her while she was riding a bike, yet she was never late for a single day in class. What am I talking about again?
Oh yes, these tiny bugs with wings. I kill 1 and 3 appear, they're in my bathroom. Although now they've invaded my kitchen as well. I slap them with my fingers or the palm of my hand. They're not as fast as flies, thank god.
When I squash them, there's this black liquid – blood? I don't know bug biology. I see two of them having sex, oh hell no!
Ass to ass, I guess that's how they do it. I swipe them off, then a horrific thought occurred to me: I killed my siblings.
No, no, I'm not crazy, as LUCA is a swell guy. He stands for last universal common ancestor. Once a very long time ago, we were all one animal – vertebrates, invertebrates, cats, dogs, whales, humans, donkeys – we were all once one. But with evolution, we changed, went our own ways, but we are still one.
There are traces inside us, invisible to the naked eye, but they exist. They show us that we were once one. The chicken I eat – I eat my own brethren. The plants I stomp, hell, we were once one too. The bugs I squash – we're one. We were one. The fish I butcher – all land vertebrates were once fish.
Dear god, how can I live with myself. And I still squash the tiny bugs.