Thunder cracked outside the window, jolting me out of my seat. We both raced outside to watch the storm, hoping to get some good footage on my phone. Flashes filled the night sky as we watched in wonder. Then an explosive crack made me jump, swear, and run back inside. I’d never heard thunder so loud.

Then the rain came. We tried to venture outside again, to watch and film. I opened the front door and stepped back as a raging waterfall had sprouted over the eaves. “I’m not going out in that,” Mike said.

We scurried back inside, but we weren’t the only ones. A spider ran across the lounge floor, heading to the bedroom. I almost stomped on it, but decided instead to capture it in a glass, not wanting to deal with spider gunk all over the floor.

I pleaded for Mike to kill it, but he did the humane thing and took It outside and set it free. “It better not come back in here!” I said.

Later on that evening, as we were watching TV, something by the front door caught Mike’s eye. 

“What?” I said, my spider and scorpion radar on full alert.

“I’m hoping it’s just a spot on the mat,” he replied.

My radar peaked. There was no spot there earlier. I jumped up to have a look. 

“It’s a giant beetle,” Mike said. He headed over with his glass to trap it, and I followed close behind.

“That’s not a beetle,” I said.

The giant cockroach sat silently on the mat, like a stone or a small rock. But don’t let looks deceive you, this thing was a nightmare.

Mike tried to cover it with the glass, but the thing ran at his feet. Mike danced on his tippy-toes trying to dodge the critter and I’m sure I heard a little squeal.

He chased after it, backwards and forwards, but this thing was fast.

I grabbed the glass from Mike, thinking I could do better. It scuttled under a towel I’d placed by the door and hid. I picked up the towel, and it darted out, giving me a fright. I screamed and plonked the glass down, but missed. Dammit.

Then it ran into the cupboard. I tried capturing it as it scurried back and forth, but this thing moved at lightning speed. It would give Usain Bolt a good run for his money. 

It fled the cupboard, and I screamed again as it brushed my foot and made a bee-line for Mike’s shoe. I flicked his shoe out of the way, then it started running for my shoe. This time I panicked. There was no way I was going to capture this supersonic creature, and nor was I letting it in my shoe, so I did the only option left to me.

The sickening crunch below my jandal told me I had won. It had its chance, but now it was no longer. I looked down at the flattened mess, feeling no remorse.

I placed the glass over him and said, “Gotcha.”