Ode to Frank

Oh Frank, you have no idea how guilty I feel for ending your life.

When I go into my bathroom, and I see your corpse, I am reminded of my many failures.

Sorry Frank.

I was not strong enough to set you free like I ought to have. Instead, I suffocated you mercilessly, and left your corpse where it landed.

Now it is there, dried, dessicated, a hollowed-out husk, an object of mockery and self-loathing.

Frank, you didn't deserve death. I'm sorry for whatever sad misfortune led you to seek residence in my mop.

And I'm sorry I haven't given you a proper sea burial yet either. Life has been hectic of late, and while I've tidied the most important areas, the corner where you are enshrined has not been high on my list of priorities.

Perhaps, Frank, wherever you are, you will get this message, and you will forgive me.

Tomorrow I shall bury you properly.

May the lemony goodness infuse your soul.

Peace be with you dear Frank. It's not your fault you were born a spider and were thus my mortal enemy.  

Honour to you, Frank. Honour to you.

Shame on me. 

 

[It's late, my daughter has been a beast all day and I just don't have a good blog post in me, so yeah. That happened. I'm sorry. Let's never speak of this again.]