In the living room, my father sits in the middle of a three-person sofa. Near it, my mother sits on the double seat. I lay prone on the soft footstool without a backrest. The television is on, but everyone is asleep.
I glance sleepily at the bookcase with the glass doors and discover there is a cockroach inside it. It is slightly larger than the average adult cockroach, and happens to stop in a backlit area. Due to the lighting, the junction of its body and six legs are extremely clear, presenting a kind of beauty that is also somewhat frightening.
Half asleep, I wonder how a cockroach can enter this sealed bookcase. At the same time, I consider ways of killing it. I take a fly swatter, but I do not know how to start. I am afraid that once I open the door, it will escape. Finally, I decide to ask my mother where the cockroach poison is located. I plan to carefully slip it through the cracks of the door. After all, it could not get out. It would definitely eat it.
Still prone on the chair, I think about how to proceed, while almost falling asleep.