Part 2 is found below.
- Samuel Bushkill
Bob, the flea, chewed on his left elbow.
"How ironic," he mused, rubbing the aggravated sore.
"I think something bit me."
He and Jon huddled just outside their small cave, little more than a depression in the forest floor. The tall stalks that rose, towering around them like trees swayed gently in the breeze. Jon stood, scratched his head and looked up at the sky, letting the bit of hair he had been nibbling on fall from his hand. He shivered, as though a chill had run up his spine, as though he had a spine. He sqinted for a second and, without taking his eyes off the sky, spoke to Bob.
"We should be going."
"Relax." Bob responded, not moving from his croutched seat. "That old dog doesn't know we're here. And if he did, why, I'd fight him off. This is my home now."
"You're talking like an idiot."
Jon sat down again in a huff. It was no use arguing with the man. When Bob got trapped by an idea, nothing short of reality could free him from its moronic prison.
Bob continued chewing, a nauseating sound that would have made Jon's skin crawl had not the latter's attention been distracted by a shadow above them. With a thin whistle and a shrill scream, Kyle landed beside the two.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!"
"What is wrong!" Jon yelled, but his question was drowned out.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!"
"Will you..."
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!"
Jon slapped him.
"Ow. Ooh. Eee. Ouch. Man, whoa."
"What did you find out?"
Kyle's eyes were bugged out and his mouth was open with a frozen horror that signified of a coming scream. Jon rose his hand above his head, palm out, ready. Kyle shut his mouth. He was trembling from head to foot.
"Now, tell me what you found out."
"Will you leave him alone."
Jon turned to face Bob who was still sitting.
"What?"
"You heard me. The boy is crazy. Look at him. Shouting like that isn't going to help anything."
Jon was set to pounce. The fire in his eyes blazed up as he squared off to the old squatter. Just then a roar like the growl of a giant dog broke through the forest. Kyle's mouth was open again and he was screaming at the top of his lungs.
"HE'S GONNA EAT ME!!!"
10 comments:
as long as everyone remains fleas and their names don't change this is gonna be sweet.
I'll read whatever you write.
This sort of sounds like an excerpt from lord of the flies.
Except they weren't actually flies.
...or fleas... and Taylor, did you actually read the book? I don't see the similarity in style or subject!
P.S. Jon, can you turn off that stupid verification for comments?
Jon, this is better than "Lord of the Flies". I don't have to even have read the book to know that. Keep up the good work. (I think you should leave the verification on... I always try to incorporate those fancy words into conversation. Like yesterday I told Jude that back when I was homeschooled Mom would make us eat Peanut Butter and "Slinkepliet" sandwiches.)
It's alright now.
I learned my lesson well.
If you can't please everyone...
Jon,
I love your story, it reminds me of a piece I read in the IU course Intro to Phenomenology. In other words, you are way existential! Gina
Sweet.
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