Five Things That Have Tried to Kill Me in the Last Two Weeks

Please witness my tale

Dear friends,

It has been two weeks since I last wrote. I beg your forgiveness, but I feel my absence has been warranted. For if you believe in the laws of magnetism, then know I have inadvertently fallen into a new form of the magic—the universe is now attracted to killing me.

#1. The Taiwanese Spider Queen

My first point of evidence occurred roughly two weeks ago. I had driven down to the southern edge of Taiwan with friends for what we thought would be a fun-filled weekend. Several hours and beers later, I wandered off to my tent-hut to recuperate.

I climbed up the short ladder, crawled over top my sleeping bag, laid down, and turned on my phone.

Horror.

Horror!

Three inches of pregnant anger jumped in the air. It stood there, facing me, daring me to move. It raised up its fists in a challenge I could not accept.

I retreated to the campground bar to heal my pride.

#2. The Taiwanese Face Crawler

The second incident was but a short while later. After consuming enough courage and asking advice of more seasoned peers, I returned to the tent-hut gallant and prideful. Lights on. I looked high and low. No enemy in sight. Peaceful sleep would soon befriend me.

As I lay on my back, I millennialed and opened my phone for one last glimpse of wasted time.

Then something huge crawled up my cheek.

I’ve never slapped someone so hard in my life—let alone myself. The beast flew off my face and hit the tent-flaps with a thud. Being full of courage, I flipped over in an instant and used my expert millenial-tuned phone instincts to shine light upon my foe. There, on its back, lay the largest god damn cockroach I had ever seen.

Surely this was sent to choke me to death in my sleep.

A smashing with a nearby bag of tissues eliminated the threat—and my sleep—for hours to come.

#3. The Taiwanese Earth God

Roughly one week later, I received further proof of this new form of magnetism I held. A large group of us had congregated on a beach at night, as foreigners are wont to do in a far-off land.

Long walks, a warm ocean breeze, bottle after bottle of liquid courage and plenty of conversation. A perfect evening.

Until the ground beneath came to life.

The chatter instantly stopped. The sky went left, the ground went right, the fire flickered off tiny sand dunes ever more erratically. Every angle to be experienced was felt ten times over every second. Imagine surfing on a 1970s washing machine resting on top of a diving board.

This went on for minutes. The night horizon colliding with the beach and the ocean waves all completely mismatched in direction is something I cannot quite put into words, and yet I must record the evidence.

That night, the Earth itself tried to kill me, for minutes on end.

And six more times in the next 24 hours.

A few days later was a country-wide earthquake and tsunami disaster drill—preplanned months before.

It seems the Earth God, in its murderous ambitions, was not without a sense of irony.

#4. The Taiwanese Sky God

The fourth incident was a common fear amongst nomadic mortals. I was to fly back to my immediate predecessors’ abode for the first time since pre-COVID. Bracing myself for ungodly coldish weather was dreadful enough already, and yet the murderish magnetism had other plans.

The Sky God of Taiwanese metal safely rose up into the sky, carrying me far over the northern part of the world we all call home. Sleep at this point was but a wakeful dream. Alas, eventually I was able to succumb to a moment's rest despite my slowly rising anxieties and suspicions.

Until came the stabbing thrust of agony in my ears.

For nearly half of the entirety of the 14-hour soar back to Canada, the demon child screamed and shouted and kicked. It was as if the airplane was specifically engineered to guide the screams from seat 46H directly into the ears of the unlucky individual sitting in 46D—that being myself.

I wasn’t sure if anyone had ever died from excess noise in the past, but this was surely an attempt by the magnetic murderer to see if it was possible. As if that wasn’t enough, the magical beast continued its attempts on my life via another sense—my food receptacle.

Dear reader, I dare not describe the dire assault on my tastebuds lest I render you unable to sleep for the next week.

#5. The Canadian God of Intemperance

The last stroke of evil attempts on my life isn’t a point in time, but rather something I expect to assault me for the next few weeks of my vacation. It comes in many forms. Often savory to the senses and delicious to the tongue.

But worse yet, it is nearly impossible to resist.

After so many unsuccessful attempts on my life, it appears the evil magnetism has resigned to a time-proven strategy in the modern western world. While I imbibe and gorge and fill my stomach beyond reason, the eviltism now bides its time.

It finally realized it doesn’t need to kill me, it can just watch me slowly destroy myself, instead. A long, slow, exceedingly delicious crawl to death.

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J.J. Pryor