Dear Worms,

This morning on my way to work, we met. Honestly, I was not happy to see you. In fact, you made my journey to work much more difficult than usual, what with tyring so hard not to step on you. Frankly, it creeps me out to see your semi-fluid, transparent, wriggling bodies out in public. Should you keep this somewhere else? Say, underground, perhaps? I realize this presents an issue with the whole "rain filling up the ground so you have to breathe thing," but maybe next time, you could just wriggle the trees or something.

Think about it.

Yours Truly,

Star