|
by Totenbuch Christ She was speaking of the tiny little insect that followed me around every day. The insect's name was Rep. "Rep's at home," I said. He was. "Is he sick?" the teacher asked. "Only of you," I replied, for this was the truth, and though it was rather rude, Rep had always taught me to tell the truth. He wouldn't have wanted me to make up a story about some dire illness. The teacher laughed lightly, though a little uneasily. "Rep won't be coming back to class until you die," I said to the teacher. This shocked her, and she didn't say anything. This was exactly what Rep had told me. Then to my astonishment I saw him. It was Rep. He was behind the teacher. Why had he returned when he said he would never? The teacher said something to me. I did not hear her for I was concentrating on Rep. He had an iron rod in his hand and was sneaking up behind the teacher. "Rep's going to kill you," I said. I pointed. The teacher scolded me; the rod raised. "Look out!" I screamed. It was too late, her head bounced off the floor and her brains flew into the wall with a splat. "Why Rep?" I said. "Why?" Rep didn't answer. He was staring at me. Why was he staring at me like that? His eyes revealed his thoughts. He thought that I was a traitor. What was wrong with Rep? Why had he suddenly snapped like this? I ran from the room crying, called out for help. It arrived and soon everything was over. Rep had lost his grip on reality. He wasn't a bad bug. He really wasn't. Is there no justice?
Little known fact: a weevil is so small that all the scientists in the world would not fit inside it. If you like anything here, or if you don't, please e-mail milky@yip.org. Or you just might have a little "accident".
|