Pink

They were pearly whitish-pink in color, tiny, deceivingly transparent and delicate, steadily moving forward on the top of the balcony fence.

Those light pink, small legs were carefully avoiding drops of evening rain collected together into miniature puddles on cold metal. They reminded me of our hands. I wanted to touch them and hold them; they looked so warm and alive.

***

I wandered around the apartment that night, tormented by insomnia. In the moment that must have been an odd synchrony of our paths, I looked through the glass balcony door and saw those fragile pink legs engaged in movement; a hairy grayish body and a head with a long nose above; small dark eyes that did not register me behind the glass.

I was always horrified by a mere thought of those creatures. I used to scream soundlessly before the imaginary pictures of them. Yet, all I cared about back that night was not to scare it. I moved carefully and silently away from the door.

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