They fly in daylight

I confess I remember little after feinting, it all happened in a blur; the only thing I remember clearly was the cold terror which clasped my heart in its vice-like grip, and that thing…even now, I need sedatives to sleep, and I rarely venture out alone, and never far from my door.

Maud and I had been friends since school, and 60 years on we still often walked past the same cobbler’s shop, under the ephemeral shadows cast by the sign of boot and key which indicated its trade.  It was a crisp autumn day, sun shining out of a cerulean sky, dry leaves whispering across the pavement as our heels clacked in unison.

We didn’t notice it, didn’t hear it as it landed on her shoulder.  I heard her shriek, whipped my head round, then staggered back as I saw a monstrous black insect, proboscis buried in her jugular…


About TheImaginator

35 year old sciolist living in Tokyo. I like swing dancing, Twitter word games, writing, using, reading, and watching movies. I write stuff on my blog occasionally.
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12 Responses to They fly in daylight

  1. zookyworld says:

    I like the eerie way you start it off… and then that insect sounds really creepy.

  2. Sinister and wonderfully written! A perfect combination. Excellent take on the prompt.

  3. Eek! Giant insects, no! I’m not afraid of your usual creepy crawlies, but over-sized butterflies even give me the heeby jeebs!

  4. Nada Sobhi says:

    Interesting, though I had to look up “proboscis”. I like the eerie, creepy beginning; it had me thinking gecko though.

  5. Sarah Ann says:

    Lovely image you paint at the end there. 🙂

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