I wear my glasses sometimes. Today is sometimes. During lunch I notice small bumpies on the ceiling. Closer inspection reveals my ceiling and upper walls to contain forty five cocoons.
I'm ok with bugs. If they look nice I shoo them. If they look mean I shoo them with a newspaper. Cocoons are different. They're probably harmless, but they don't weight enough to fall straight. The first one I knock down flutters all over before landing. I'm not ok with the chance of "probably harmless" fluttering into my hair. As far as I'm concerned my ceiling is coated in a brood of aliens waiting to pounce.
I decide to consult the internet. I decide to consult the internet somewhere else. They look entirely different from any pictures or descriptions I find. Four hours later I have no better idea of their identity. Four hours and five minutes later I am resolved to defend my cave from the 44 remaining invaders. Armed with a broom, a bucket, a mask and a hairnet, I enter the cave.
There are five cocoons in my apartment.
Terrified.
I remove five cocoons. Perhaps tonight is a good night to camp on the roof.
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