LORD OVER THE FLIES
“Stop! Stop!” I yelled, but only my attacker could hear me, and with a growing, glowing gleam in his eyes, he ignored my cries. Despite my plea, he kept at it. As no one responded to my screams, I felt silenced and powerless to resist. I don’t know who he was or where we were, but I woke up and realized it was 4:40 a.m. I rolled over to recover, resting next to my husband. After ten minutes, I knew it was pointless and I might as well creep downstairs and use those morning hours, the sleeping hours, to write before my trail of children would appear. Entering the kitchen, I saw them. Bigger than average house flies, with beady red eyes shining on the sides of their finely crafted heads, they rested their articulated legs on my window pane and hid in the lamp, wings ready to fly in first response. I counted at least three. Make it four if you add the one lying dead on the bathroom floor I passed on my way downstairs. Who knew how many more we’d encounter that day? Two tho