I got eaten by a bear. But it spit me out again sizzling in gastric juices. A wildman came and cut me out. Now I’m being chewed on by carpenter ants. They are everywhere, reproducing exponentially, squeezing themselves like pus out of the wood. Laying in bed tonight I hear the whole apartment unravelling. Ants are crawling all over me. They’re in my teeth, clinging pinchingly to my leg hairs, plucking at sensitive nerve ends as they scamper across my bare skin.
It sounded like someone was coming up the back stairs. I opened the door with caution.
Raccoons are at the bottom of everything. I chased it away in my boxers.
All three of you almost died tonight. Maybe you should drive home through the ditches. There’s almost no traffic there.
So many close calls today. Two, so far, and everything comes in threes. The three acts of a play, for example.
In the final movements, something disastrous.