INSOMNIA
“Don’t. Don’t make a move. Let me crush you right on the spot. You’ll be punished for invading my privacy in
the middle of the night. I declared its death sentence with a swatter in my hand, but the fly on the wall wasn’t
afraid. It was mocking me with its repulsive compound eyes the very moment I issued the death warrant. The
second I raised my hand, it flew off the wall and crashed into the window glass, and circled the room like a
maniac. I patiently waited for the right time.
After this maneuver, it landed on the curtain rod and I took the opportunity to jump off the ground to strike it
down. Sure enough, I missed the bastard embarrassingly, so I sat to contemplate my next move. Why would a
little fly make its mission in life to torment me in the middle of the night? We both knew there was no way out.
The door was shut and the windows closed; one of us had to fall tonight.
As I fantasized different ways of destroying my enemy, the insect callously opened another front in the war and
suddenly flew right into my face. A split second before clocking me in the eye, it changed its path and violently
circled my head. Now the only way to strike it was to punch my own face. This charade had gone long enough.
After this infuriating campaign, it flew to the top corner of the room where the two walls met the ceiling. It took a
unique position where it controlled the entire war zone, my small room with nothing in it but a few fresh canvases
on the floor, a little stool and in front of it, the easel supporting my freshly painted woman in nude. She was
posing seductively on her back, impatiently waiting to see the end of this theater.
As I had my eyes fixed on the enemy, I pulled the stool closer with the toes, lifted one leg and stepped up. As
soon as I gently managed to stand on the bench, the fly resorted to a vicious tactic to throw me off the balance.
It generated a head piercing noise and circled the room too far for me to reach and too close to compound my
torment. Once again I feverishly leaped in the air to strike it down and claim its life.
I fell to the ground and the buzzing stopped. The room plunged into an eerie silence; no sign of insect.
Anxiously, I scanned every inch of the carpet searching for a little black spot. It was nowhere to be found.
I gazed at every corner of the room looking for its crushed body when suddenly I noticed the monster sitting
where I could never have expected. It was lurking right in the middle of the long pubic hairs of my beauty. “No,
the paint is fresh,” I pleaded in agony.
As easy as it was to strike it now, it was impossible for me to do so. I loved my art more than I hated my enemy. I
was petrified with my hand clamped over my mouth realizing how much damage it could inflict on my beauty and
how easily it could destroy me.
The hideous creature was clinging to the most sacred part of her body waiting for my next move. I had none as
it’d already invaded my love.
My only hope was it wouldn’t make any sudden moves on my freshly painted virgin. I quietly dropped my
weapon and kneeled before my art and threw myself at the mercy of my ruthless enemy.
Moments later and before my bewildered eyes, the repulsive insect started fondling my woman with its
disgusting claws and shockingly enough she responded by seductive shifts of her hips. I could hear her heavy
breathing and see the lust in her rhythmic movements. She was elegantly vibrating her inner thighs in pleasure.
It was difficult to say if the bug was more satisfied at seeing me in pain or seeing her in pleasure.
She brushed her body on my canvas and took a more compromising position. My beautiful creation opened her
mouth and gasped for air and I could see the tip of her tongue moisturizing her lower lip. How beautiful her rosy
tongue complimented the crimson of her sinful lips. Oh, how painful it was to see my love losing her innocence
to a monster in my presence. How cruel she could be?
With the lustful gyrations of her hips, she further tempted the creature and moments later the insect crawled
between her thighs and disappeared. She then closed her legs and coiled her body and her moaning and
panting tarnished the serenity of the midnight.
She was ravaged before my eyes and the sharp pieces of her pleasure scarred my soul. The vibrancy of her
flesh on my canvas revived my imagination in ways I never thought possible. With her every move, she created
vivid colors I'd never thought existed and with her every act, she made an exotic image I’d never dared to paint
in my wildest dreams.
She was drowning in the colorful ocean of desire and with every sudden movement of her sinful flesh she
artistically portrayed her pleasure with the colors of my pain. Helplessly, I watched an insect reshape my
imagination, redefine my thoughts and recreate my art.
I was condemned to witness my devastation for a time that seemed as long as eternity until she was gratified in
the climax of ecstasy and exploded in delight.
Finally the dripping insect flew off my canvas and my love vanished in a palette of fresh paints.