This morning when moving a box of flyers in my room I saw a caterpillar.
I fucking hate caterpillars, not only do they scare me, but what they become also scares me.
Ever since a traumatic time in a Butterfly House in my youth I am very very scared of butterflies, and moths by mere association.
But caterpillars are just icky. And this was a fast moving furry one.
I couldn’t catch and throw out of the window, can’t throw furry things, and the fur made it too kinda ickycute to squish.
It knew I was dilly-dallying (what a great word – everyone, use it more) and headed to behind the wardrobe, it didn’t come out the other side. It was either in Narnia, or had stopped for rest.
I didn’t want to move the wardrobe in case it attacked, so I ran away.
People have been telling me that it’s probably coccoonamorphysing (not a great word – everyone, use it less) itself into a moth or butterfly, in my room. Whilst I sleep.
I only hope that the students that normally reside this flat haven’t been doing any Jeff Goldblum style experiments…