This morning I discovered yet another cockroach not far from our bed in my beloved’s apartment. It was dead. At first I thought it best not to mention it to my beloved. I picked it up by one of its legs and tossed it out through an open window. After less then an hour, though, I told her about my discovery. Apparently, I could not keep the secret. In spite of everything we have done to get rid of the pests, we are still under attack. The poisons distributed around the house are doing their job, but the intrepid insect is not giving up that easily. After a long talk about what to do next, we both feel ill at ease. Cockroaches are adversaries worthy of respect. They have been living in the shadows of the most intelligent species on the planet for so long that one cannot but admire their own intelligence in turn. By this reckoning, they seem to be a step ahead, as well. But I am wasting my time. It is time to search for yet another poison.