I woke with a strange feeling, though I suppose that’s true of any awakening. My eyes adjusted to the early morning light spilling through our bedroom window. Everything looked sharper and more vivid than usual.

Lying on my side, I first saw my wife’s face. I’d seen her like that countless times, but the sight never failed to amaze me. Even in her sleep, Maddie looked gorgeous.

There are two kinds of people: side sleepers and back sleepers. The latter wake without their faces creased and smudged by the night. Maddie slept on her back.

I smiled with pride as I took in her noble and radiant—if somewhat severe—features. Then it struck me: much as I admired her large face, she did have quite a massive head. No, actually, it was huge!

Something was off. She seemed unnaturally big, while I felt tiny. Was I still dreaming?

I had no time to make sense of it. Maddie stirred, opened her eyes, and yawned. She turned her head toward me and, after a few blinks, our eyes met. I tried to say, “Good morning,” but no sound came out. She studied me for a moment. Then her expression changed completely, and she let out a bloodcurdling scream.

That caught me completely off-guard. I was about to scream too, but again I couldn’t. I just froze, stunned, as she leaped from the bed and stared down at me in terror. It grew even stranger when she frantically began shouting my name.

I’m here, babe. What’s going on?

Obviously, she couldn’t hear my thoughts. When I didn’t move, she yelled my name toward the door, as if I weren’t lying right there. I stared dumbly at the doorway, curious to see if I might burst in. When no one came running, she bent down, snatched a sneaker, and raised it over her head. I had never seen such hatred in her eyes.

Don’t!

Before I could process what was happening, she hurled the shoe at me. The nasty sneaker missed me by a hair. It bounced off my pillow, slammed into the nightstand, and sent our wedding photo shattering to the floor. My brain barely caught up before she snatched its partner, ready to throw again.

I wasn’t about to play bowling pin again. As the second shoe came torpedoing toward me, I spun and flew off the bed just as it whizzed past.

That’s when things got really weird. When I said I flew off the bed, I meant it literally. I felt incredibly light as I hovered across the room, a soft buzz of wings humming behind me. The whole flying thing was clearly new to me, so I had little control over my direction and found myself drifting alarmingly close to the vanity table. I crashed, rather embarrassingly, straight into the mirror.

Luckily, it didn’t shatter. I took a moment to collect myself, then caught a glimpse of my reflection. I nearly fainted. Staring back at me from the mirror was ... a cockroach.

I stared wide-eyed and speechless at the glass (figuratively, of course, since I didn’t exactly have eyelids or vocal cords), almost forgetting about Maddie’s mayhem in the background. I had to get closer and climb up the mirror for a better look.

I have to admit, I was impressed. Long, flexible antennae crowned my head. Big compound eyes, sharp mandibles, a burnished tan, segmented abs, and what looked like a cape folded on my back. I felt like an insect superhero.

Sure, I had no frame of reference, but I had to hand it to myself: I was quite a handsome roach—chef’s kiss, if I’d had lips. Funny how perspective changes with position.

Maddie apparently didn’t appreciate my preening at the glass, as she suddenly stormed out of the room, giving me a few more seconds to admire myself. That didn’t last long. I soon heard her stomping back up the stairs. I stepped away from the mirror and turned toward the door, bracing myself. She finally burst in, wielding ... Raid.

No!

She pointed that deadly aerosol can at me, and I was so petrified I couldn’t move. My heart hammered at two hundred beats per minute, and I saw the end coming. I didn’t want to die. I guess you never fully appreciate life until it’s about to be taken from you.

Fortune smiled on me. For some reason, the thing didn’t fire. Maybe she’d forgotten to shake it or unlock the safety cap. Whatever it was, I seized my chance and hurtled across the room, Maddie’s frantic footsteps pounding behind me. I aimed for the top of the wardrobe but missed, crashed into it, and fell helplessly to the floor. Midair, I heard that dreadful spraying sound.

What an awful stench! Weapons of mass destruction should be outlawed! The acrid spray seared every atom of my body. Desperate for escape, I barely managed to squeeze under the wardrobe, then scuttled toward the rear wall.

“Die, you disgusting thing!” Maddie hissed as she jammed the spray nozzle against the gap I’d slipped through and blasted away.

The toxic cloud was spreading fast, and, half-dazed, I tried my best to reach the farthest corner. If only I had a closet to hide in. Just before I blacked out, I crawled under the baseboard, scaled the back of the wardrobe, and pulled myself up to the top. The moment I landed, I knew I was safe. She would never reach me there; she’d never think to look.

Ugh, what a mess! Dust everywhere. I made a mental note to wipe down the surface once I got myself back. Below, the commotion seemed to quiet. I wanted to edge forward and peek over, but I was afraid Maddie and her can of evil would spot me. I had no choice but to bide my time.

After a while, I heard the bathroom door shut and the shower start running, which made sense; she still had to get ready for work.

That left me alone with my thoughts. To put it mildly, nothing about my situation added up. The best explanation was that I was having a nightmare. I had read Kafka in my teens, after all, and memories have sly ways of surfacing long after the seat of consciousness has cast them aside.

So how could I wake up? Pinch myself? Ugh. No fingers. Ram my head into a wall? Nah, these huge eyes would cushion the blow. Besides, I remembered these resilient bastards had a secondary nervous system and could keep going even without a head. No. Sleeping through it was my only option.

Eventually, the bathroom door opened, then the wardrobe door. I could sense Maddie rummaging through the shelves—hear hangers scraping back and forth. I couldn’t help it; curiosity gnawed at me. I had to see her. I inched forward with the utmost caution and peeked over the edge.

Even though I’d seen her naked numerous times before, I could never get enough of her—certainly not from my new vantage point. Anyone who hasn’t seen Maddie naked has never truly seen a beautiful woman. She had marble-smooth skin, a long, athletic body, perfect curves, and flawless proportions. She was a goddess. My goddess.

It felt a bit odd, peering like a voyeur at what was rightfully mine, and yet it was thrilling all the same. Some people get excited watching others undress; others find the reverse just as exciting.

I almost drooled—uh, twitched my mandibles—as she slid her long legs into her thong and tugged it into place. She then strutted to the vanity, examining her perfect body in the mirror with obvious satisfaction, a towel still wrapped around her head. With her natural beauty, she hardly needed any makeup. After a quick brush and a few touch-ups, she returned to the clothes laid across the bed to finish dressing.

She slipped her bra over her full breasts with effortless skill, shimmied a business skirt over her sculpted hips, and buttoned herself into a white silk blouse. Gathering her belongings into her shoulder bag, she paused to steal one final glance in the mirror before leaving with a triumphant smile.

My love.

Only after the front door closed did it hit me: she hadn’t seemed the least bit troubled that I hadn’t been in bed that morning. I usually leave long after she does. She hadn’t even called to check on me.