Something Bugging You?

He scratched at his scalp with dirty fingernails, grinning a yellow grin. I've no idea where he came from, whether he is homeless, or unhoused, or nomadic, or or or... and we aren't meant to judge. We breathe through our mouths, and offer what help we can.

"Got the itches, doc," he said.

"It's probably just headlice," I told him, eyeing his limp, grey curls and wondering when they'd last been washed. "We can write you a prescription for treatment," I stepped back from the wall of body odour and tried not to think of having to apply it.

His long finger was still working away through the greasy tangles at his scalp. It was a bony, crooked digit. The joints looked swollen and painful. His eyes, little black beetles scuttling back and forth in his crinkly brown face, looked through me. They said, I'll just hunker down next to a puddle and rub that stuff in, shall I, Doc.

He didn't say this, but I heard it in my conscience just the same as if he had. What he actually said was, "I really think you should take a closer look, Doc."

scratch scratch scratch

Flakes fell onto his his coat. Some fell on the floor. I couldn't stop looking at them, and wishing for a dustpan and brush to sweep all the bits of him away as fast as they fell.

"I really don't think..." I took another half step backward. I didn't want to part those strands and go burrowing in the dirt and scalp flakes. There could be secondary infection, I told myself sternly. You can't be negligent just because the guy needs a wash. He's a person. Get a grip.

How bad could it be? Just a bit of dirt, right?

I put my gloves on (screw the planet, these things save my life) and gingerly parted the rat-tails.

The hole in his head was oozing blood and pus. A moment, and I saw a flash of movement, something wriggling in there... it was gone. There! Another one.... Right before my eyes, one of the creatures gnawed into his head. I saw bone. I tasted vomit before I hit the floor.

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Word count: 366

(NB. This excludes the title, subtitle, and author's note.)

Submitted on Tuesday 8th October at 19:20

Disclaimer: Any similarity to any person alive or dead is purely coincidental.

The story behind the story: Inspired by Antonio again! There are few things more horrifying to me than headlice. Parents know what I'm talking about.

Image: I imagine I won't get many reads for this one. That picture is enough to give anyone the heebie jeebies and put them right off.

A Year of Stories: I'm writing (and submitting, here) a story every day this year. This continues my 282 daily microfiction story streak since 1st January.

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