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A Lullaby for Jack

Short story By: doc byron

You figure it out.

Submitted:Mar 7, 2007    Reads: 271    Comments: 4    Likes: 0   

Last night, in the dark, something came close to me, brushing up against my body, making my skin crawl.

Frightened, turning over in my bed, my body rippled with gooseflesh, I lay listening to a sound I couldn't identify. The mubling of a human voice? I wondered at first; then, as I listened closer, I recognized the sound.

It was the low, droning sound of flies.

Like most people who practice good personal hygiene, I detest flies - consider them nasty, vile little pests - would rather swat one, kill it, than give it a second glance. But it does make one stop and wonder; as prone as we are to lash out, taking another life, and at the same time doing away with the low, droning sound of flies, one of the world's endless but soothing nightsongs, lulling you into a deep sleep, void of all dreams or nightmares. {Especially when you consider they were born of maggots}.

Then, as the song ends, it is with infinite sadness that we know that we must go back to sleep in silent darkness, with no nightsong to lull back into the slumber of the blessed, nature's undersong, with our lonely hearts beating as one underneath a crimson moon.

But......not before I gently remove the rapidly decomposing corpse from my bed, in order to make room for my next ''special girl.''


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