I'm not following the prompt today because something happened to me last night that I just can't get out of my head, so I had to write about it.
Taking a sip of ginger ale
Should not be a source for chilling tales.
Into my glass a beetle had slipped;
Heedless, I lifted it to my lips.
Instantly feeling something off,
Gagging and spitting, I gasped and coughed.
Twelve hours later, I still can taste
The awful awareness of bug misplaced.
Boxelder bugs and they're generally harmless. But who wants bugs in their house—or in their food and drink?! For those wondering, I did spit it out and it was dead. I'm not sure if it drowned in my ginger ale or if I killed it.