I sat down in my favourite seat to have some chocolate. This seat is under one of the giant beams that holds the floor above up. Sometimes, little bits of insulation or wood shavings or whatever fall down around the edges of the beam, probably because I walk around up there.
This time, I sat down, began to enjoy a square of chocolate, and was rewarded with a little ‘tap’ on my head, right at the front and almost square in the middle. Was that a fly? I thought, though I haven’t seen any big enough to hit that hard since last autumn. I vaguely brushed at it. Then something black fell past my face and into my lap. Whoa! A little centipede!
After a couple of failed attempts — unlike most sensible bugs, this little (~1.5 cm, maybe?) centipede felt that running right off the side of my hand and falling into whatever dangers were beneath was a good idea — I caught the little guy, closed my hands around it, and carried it to the back door without bothering to turn on the light. When I opened my hands again in the dimness, I thought it was doing that tail-up thing they sometimes do, being threatening, which I figured was pretty fair given a giant had just imprisoned it.
Then it moved in a really weird way for a centipede’s tail end, and I realised that, no, it wasn’t any kind of threat posture. It was washing.
So I politely let my centipede friend finish washing, and then it scurried off my hand and was gone. I guess bugs just like me or something?