True Story

(Texarkana, Arkansas, 1971) Arnie sat atop a bar stool in his darkened kitchen, weeping. “You have to go away,” he sobbed into the shadows. “You don’t belong here, and my wife is putting her foot down. So you have to leave now, tonight. Please, please… I don’t want to kill any of you! I can’t, can’t -- so please, oh, please, just get out now, while you can!”

With such pleas as these did broken-hearted Arnie continue to address his audience - of cockroaches - far into the night; for he had promised to call the exterminator in the morning. Only when crying had exhausted him did he take himself to bed.

And that’s when they left. Yes, they did. Every one of them, hundreds or maybe thousands of them cleared out that very night. He never called the exterminator. And for as long as I knew Arnie, no cockroach was ever seen in his house again.


P.S.) I've no idea what religion Arnie was, if any.