August 22, 2009 § Leave a comment
The smell of burning invaded my nostrils and I realized that I was repeating an experience that happened over three years ago. From my old blog [my writing was certainly very dramatic back in high school]:
A stupid fly was buzzing endlessly around my room last night.
Generally, flies aren’t extremely difficult to exterminate; however, this particular insect was frustratingly hyperactive, refusing to land on one surface for more than one second at a time. As I stood in the middle of my room waiting for the fly to come near me, I heard it land in my big floor lamp [you know, the tall skinny one that all Asians have].
The buzzing stopped.
I waited to see if the bug would fly out again, but the silence was permanent. Just to be sure, though, I climbed onto my chair and peered into the top of my lamp.
Smoke rose from the bright bulb, dancing elegantly in the air.
I was creeped out for a moment; the fly had burned to death and now its corpse continued to smolder. My lamp was a chamber of death!
I also rejoiced, for my lamp did for me what I could not do myself: get rid of the nasty insect.
Returning my chair to my desk, it hit me.
It hit me hard.
The putrid fumes of the burning fly. Noxious waves of it, rolling over me, an unbearably pungent stench. Oh, it was horrid.
I rubbed pearberry lotion all over my nostrils and opened my window in order to clear my room of the fly’s toxic onslaught, torturing me even after its death.
O cursed creature! Happy am I that you have fallen! Begone from this place, o vile one!
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