All I wanted was a bath. Was that too much to ask?
I was sitting in the bath-house merrily pouring water over myself. I could feel something on my back. I flicked it away – the night is full of mosquitoes and moths. Seconds later the tickly feeling had returned. I swiped at my back again. After a third time I turned around. The wall was alive!!
It was covered in small white worms. Hundreds and hundreds of them. Worms which were crawling up the wall, and slipping off. Off onto my back. And probably into my hair and lord knows where else.
Where were these things coming from? Down from the night sky, or up from the earth? I looked up. They didn’t seem to be arriving from that direction. I looked down. I probably shouldn’t have. For the water on the floor was also alive. The worms might have had trouble wall-climbing, but they sure could swim.
How could I not have spottted these before now? Oh yeah, because it was dark. It was a cheap schlock horror movie with no director to call ‘cut’. Were the worms in my towel? In my clothes? In my washbag? Who knew?
I figured I probably shouldn’t make a naked dash back to the house, but who would want to wear worm-infested items? I shook the towel, hoping to rid it of any residents, and gathered up my things, all the while slapping at the worms which were slithering out of the water and up my legs. I got back to the house and shrieked at The Husband to check me for worms.
Not quite a Relaxing with Radox evening.