Lady of the Flies

Kathy had been cleaning out the space under the sink and had found all sorts of nasty chemicals in aerosols and spray packs. Did these sort of things have a use-by date?

She thought she would test one. There were always lots of flies in the conservatory. Lots of spiders too, judging by the floaty strings of webs she found but the arachnid contingent was obviously overwhelmed or just lazy, as the flies just kept coming.

She grabbed the fly spray and headed through the alcove. Taking the cap off, she raised it and decided one short blast on one fly would probably be best rather than randomly spraying the whole thing around the room.

A particularly dark hairy specimen had rested on the glass infront of her and she aimed, pressed and fired. A direct hit! And the fly buzzed maniacally for a minute and then landed, twitching its legs in its apparent death throes.

Satisfied, Kathy sprayed what was left in the canister around and went to get the dustpan and brush from the kitchen. She went through the alcove and to the kitchen on the left. She suddenly had an epiphany: she may as well get the hoover and came out of the kitchen to head past the alcove to the bedroom where she'd been cleaning earlier.

As she passed, she was struck by a strange humming noise, like a bumbling bee or two were doing the crazy veering of lost creatures, confused and disoriented and desperate. She stepped towards the conservatory to investigate.

Firstly, she was struck by how dark it was. Where had the light gone? As she stepped down into the conservatory, she was further startled by the crunch that her foot made and the immediate sensation of small hairy insect legs tickling her skin. She recoiled and reached for the light, leaning down to brush at the irritation on her foot.

Raising her head, she looked around and was horrified at what she saw. Hundreds and hundreds of flies. A moving mass of black. Coating everything. Her furniture, the windows, the blinds.

And her. Covering her. Smothering her.

She became indistinguishable from the seething hoards.

The spiders watched on.

***

366 words

This story came to life (like the flies) after a conversation at work where a colleague brought in some fly spray which she had found whilst tidying up at home. It was in a rusty old can and we laughed about its capabilities to kill flies and whether or not we were wise to use it in the office. Maybe if it was well-ventilated? This then prompted me to think about the consequences if this fly-killer had chemically turned itself into something else over time.

Lord of the Flies by William Golding is a great book which I would recommend. There aren't many flies in it but it is an interesting book about humans and the boundaries created by society and what our world may be like if they were not there.

Or alternatively, it's about schoolboys shipwrecked and how they deal with that.

Thanks for stopping by! If you do read it, please do leave a comment as I love to interact with my readers.

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