This guy was on the wall in my basement. He was the size of a small mouse. I kid you not.
Sometimes I am a prisoner in my own home. If the sun goes down and there happens to be laundry down in the basement that needs changed over, I often find myself standing at the top of the basement stairs. Looking down into the black abyss. Dreading having to go down there where the camel crickets rule the night. Where they wait for me with their big bubble-like bodies and long, gangly legs.
I can go down there a million times during the day, but as soon as dark hits, the freaks come out in full force.
I hate them.