Coffee Tickles -fiction from Caligula23x-The Chronicle of a Man's Progressive Descent into Madness: [Part One] The heat. It had been unseasonably warm for February in Ohio; Sixty-One degrees. I’d been in a sweatshirt so I went upstairs for something less Winter-like, you know, a T-shirt or whatever. Upon reaching the top stair I saw him. I said to myself in a slow and methodical tone, “Oh, my friend, what a fatal mistake you’ve made.” It was one the flies. Having no luck with escape through the highest windows this buzzing menace had apparently abandoned his window-mate in hopes of finding liberation on his own. “I’ll set you free”, I whispered as my pace slowed and hand readied itself. |
if it sensed something was amiss. It held itself motionless out of instinct, part one of its only defense. The hunter knew what to expect, he had stalked prey of this ilk before. The creature, suspecting an attack, would remain still (hoping to blend in with its surroundings or at least attract no further attention); it would move only at the last second -quickly- in an attempt to escape the blow (part two of its defense).
The blow was quick and accurate. Fatal. There would be no more buzzing from this creature. I laughed out loud, celebrating my victory. I seized the fly’s corpse, still fresh from the kill, and carried it downstairs immediately (belaying my previous wardrobe change objective). Why I felt like keeping a dead fly never occurred to me, I guess I figured I’d dispose of it in a few minutes but some part of me (perhaps some primal need) wanted to keep it around for a while. I laid my trophy on a white paper napkin and went back upstairs for the T-shirt.
Any old shirt would do and as I recall I ended up wearing a sleeveless black (perhaps navy blue) one. I remember thinking how I used to look much better in it before the extra pounds. Upon leaving the bedroom I stopped by the upstairs bathroom for a splash of water to the face. The faucet sputtered with air pockets as it often does when first turned on, kicking spurts of water in unpredictable directions. I love the feel of water to the face, it’s so forgiving; the experience is more psychological than hygienic. The towel I reached for still smelled of fabric softener, only adding to the comforting and refreshing experience of my bathroom visit. While returning the towel to its perch I heard the electric door chime that chirps from our security panel every time the contact is breached; apparently my wife had returned. “Hi Baby!” I called from the sink. No answer. I guess she didn’t hear me.
Once downstairs I found myself in need of a cold beer. Luckily, the twelve pack I bought the previous evening had survived last night’s attack. Well, it barely survived, but one cold beer is better than no cold beer. The familiar rumbling of gravel complaining beneath the force of car tires disturbed my beer drinking. I watched as my car -soon to be repossessed- came smoothly down the driveway. “Huh, I must have been hearing things”, I thought, “Here’s comes the wife right now.” I figured I could at least get the door for her, she’d have our daughter with her and the appetite our little pork chop has makes for an increasingly heavier car seat. On the way out of the kitchen I thought to dispose of the napkin and fly I’d left on the counter but when I reached for it, planning on crumpling and pitching my enemy’s body once and for all, I noticed the fly was missing. “You motherfucker…”, under my breath I cursed, “… I must have just stunned you.”