The holes in the ceiling told Rovin that termites have gotten in after all.

The house was nearly finished. A new coat of paint for the walls and the installation of new doors would have been the last few touches needed to complete the renovations. But now, with termites eating the ceiling, he would have to put off moving it in.

Mentally tallying the cost of what's been done so far, Rovin scratched his head. Re-fumigation and a new ceiling would set him back some more, perhaps force him to dip into the money his father had left him. He had already spent all of his personal savings. He almost hated that this project was costing so much money.

But this had to be done. It cannot wait another month. God forbid, another two months.

Rovin stared at the ceiling and noticed a pattern in the placement of the termite holes.

It almost looked like a flower. Or a mouth.

Termites only eat wood.

Rovin decided that a minor termite infestation would not interfere with his plan. He would move it in by the end of the month.

A distant ringing started from somewhere to his left. He swiped at his ear, though he knew that a mosquito would not ring.

Rovin woke up when the back of his hand hit the near wall. Outside his room, he could hear the breakfast bell ringing. He got up to join the rest of the residents for breakfast. After that, group.

One more month, Rovin reminded himself as he shuffled after the schizo from the next room. One more month and he would finally put it away. And he could finally get on with his life.


Copyright 2011 Cristina Cheng