Caution: This story contains some disturbing content. Please do not read if you are sensitive to psychedelic elements.
That Old Bug
It is crawling inside me. Not inside inside…but, you know, under the skin. Just beneath the first layer. Its called epiderm I guess, something I read in a newspaper, or was it on a tv. Ya it would be tv I guess because I don’t read much anyway. Oh I feel it again…its like a ripple going down slowly from my shoulder through the elbow, it pauses at the wrist though. And then from back of my hand to the finger tips. It wants to come out I guess. Oh its putting that pressure again…but it won’t go through. I know. My fingers are tough. I played with the sand a lot in my childhood. Sand makes your hand tough.
Here it comes again..this time its bigger..my elbow nearly swelled this once. But elbows are strong. I don’t know what will happen once it reaches the hand– ah it hurts…its going for the index finger. Its pushing hard…and its swelling. POP! Wow I have two thumbs now. But my husband doesn’t know this. He will be coming home any minute. I must get rid of it. He will not like this. Where are my sewing needles? You don’t see a needle around when you need one. And when you don’t , it lurks around the dark drawers and bites your unsuspecting hand.
There it is. Now its just a matter or making a puncture and diffusing whatever is inside. But which thumb shall I diffuse. They both look the same. Why this has to be so confusing. He’d be home any minute – think think…oh it should be the same as the left hand. I am so dumb sometimes. Ok so here it is – both palms facing up…left hand’s thumb is on left side. So right hand’s thumb should be the one on the right..so I’ve to diffuse the other one. Good – I have figured it out. I feel so proud of myself sometimes when I deduce something on my own. Ok so here we go…a nice little prick on the finger. Now the blood is coming out. Well its only a small drop…this will take ages. Have to make more pricks. There. There. There...and maybe one there. Nice five pricks – this feels better now. Pressure is releasing. Good. What a relief.
I guess he is coming home. I can hear a knock through the cupboard. Yes dear, I am coming. Ummm…just give me two minutes. Need to ummm..take care of something.
There you are. Did you have a good day at work? No? My, You look thin and dirty as well. I can see your bones. Oh look at that – a small kernel of meat on your cheek-bone. Can I have it? Please we were together for 60 years. We share everything. Don’t we. Please let me have it.
He looks famishing. And tasty. He loves me so much. He can give anything to me. Don’t you think I did not know that. That was the reason I just took it without waiting for his approval, or his consent; or his burial.
Its time and you should go back to work dear. Bye bye. Come home soon.
He is gone now. But I think he does not love me anymore. When we were young he used to take me places. We used to go to fancy restaurants. With exquisite music and food and wine. Ah…the food and wine. I need another prick on my finger. Yes…that tastes like wine. So where was I. Yes- the restaurants. They had nice food there…and grains. Yes g …grains. And we had a nice little home but then my husband had to go to the war. It was crazy. We did not know their weapons or their species. And we lost. And they took all of it. But we survived. You see- my husband loved war. He played war a lot.
But then they took away all the restaurants as well. And then we did not have any place to eat. But again my husband is a darling. I knew he would give me everything. He said that many a times that his heart belonged to me. How come I…a lowly and faithful wife for life, could disobey him. I just took what he wanted me to have. His heart that is. It was tasty.
Some connotations: An old widow of a war veteran is hallucinating and rambling with herself. Her life was devastated by an alien invasion on Earth. Her husband survived the war but starvation ensued. Unable to cope with unbearable hunger she became a cannibal with her husband being probably her first (or maybe recent) victim. She along with her hallucinations is trying to justify her acts. The title of the story can be an allusion to the aliens who attacked earth or the old lady who is now surviving on other’s bodies like a bug.
Author’s Note: This was most disgusting thing I ever wrote. I was wondering about an alien invasion from a view point of a survivor and I don’t know from where but this came out. The story got even more grotesque but I can’t make myself put that on paper.