Baby Talk

The baby held the red plastic phone to her ear, nodding and babbling.  I smiled, at least until the cockroach skittered down the cord.  Thing must’ve been three inches long.  I snatched the phone; the baby squalled, uncomprehending. 

Eventually I dumped it outside.  I’d disinfect it in the morning.

That night, I woke to the baby’s cry.  “Da!  Da!” 

I saw her standing in the doorway, roaches streaming past her chubby legs.  One big one perched unmoving on her shoulder.

As the filthy black bodies filled my mouth, all I could think was, Thing must be three inches, at least.