Last night, I vacuumed up a giant moth that was hanging out on my wall. The moth was two inches tall--I have no idea its wingspan. The poor creature was sucked up before it had a chance to fly away.
Last September, I wrote about another giant moth in my downstairs bathroom that freaked me out so much that I refused to open the bathroom door for a week, fearing the giant moth would attack me. (Thankfully, my condo has two bathrooms.)
After a week, I opened the bathroom and it was fine. I never did find the moth or its carcass, which got me thinking: Maybe the moth I saw last night was the same moth from last fall... Maybe it finally ventured out of its hiding spot for the past eleven months.
I felt mildly guilty about killing the moth, being a living thing and all, but mostly I was worried that I would fail to kill it, and the moth would hide, waiting to spring out and terrorize me. I did not want to repeat what happened last year, fearing small spaces my own home because of a large flying insect.
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