Tuesday, June 28, 2011

genghis fly and the horde

I got home from work yesterday hot and tired.  It's summer in the south, and feels like we are living three inches from hell.  I get through the summer thinking about how wonderful fall is.   Cool crisp air, autumn leaves in golds and reds.  Steve gets through summer thinking of autumn too.  Football.

As I dream of cooler temperatures I tell Steve hi.  And hear something buzz past my ear.  Damn fly.  I hate them.  Nasty harbingers of maggots to come.  I tell Steve.  He says "I know there are several in here and I killed a couple."

As I walk in the kitchen I notice that there are several flies.  There are more than several.  There are a bunch.  A bunch of flies is equal to at least ten.

Him: I don't know where they came from.  There's your chicken, wrapped in the sink and thawed, I have the rest nearly ready.
Me: Is that deer you are cooking?
Him: yes.
Me: I changed my mind I don't want anything.

So I put the chicken in the fridge and walk away.  He thinks I am mad, but the combination of flies, heat, and the odor of cooking deer combined make my appetite go far, far away.

I go back in the living room and notice.  More flies on the storm door.  By more I mean at least 15.

Now I am starting to look around the room.  REALLY look around.

And there are dozens.  Upon dozens.  I open the back door and caught between the door and storm door are more than I can count.  On the inside, and on the outside, trying to get in.

I am shuddering in disgust as I shriek for Steve to do something.  So he does.

He leaves. He covers his food and leaves.

To go get fly spray.  While he is gone I start swatting.  I feel like my flyswatter has turned into a lightsaber.  I start to feel the Jedi emerge in me.  I swat, thrust, parry, pivot and duck, swat.  The FORCE IS WITH ME.

Then Steve gets back and I hear the sssshhhhhhhh of fly spray.  He is working his way in, weapon drawn and mowing down flies in a wide swath.  I hear the screams of the dying horde.

Ok, so that was a bit over the top.  They weren't screaming.  But they were buzzing.  And when he sprayed the house, and the windows in the bathroom and wreck room...you could hear a loud hum.  REALLY.  There were so many that they made a loud vibrating hum as their little wings beat the air in the fatal dance of fly mortality.

Steve and I stood there and looked at each other.  And we never did figure out where they came from.

But I do know we got their leader.  He was the biggest, hairiest fly of the bunch.

Genghis Fly.

He's gone too now.  And his horde with him.  Swallowed by my Dyson.

But they will live on in legend.

~cath xo
Twitter @jonesbabie
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