By Bettina Laszlo
Jenny sniffled in the bed, holding a lighter, staring at white dots running along the wooden panel. Mites infested the nightstand again, despite cleansers and insecticides. Only surface treatments.
Jenny couldn’t clean all corners; usually, a small area was left where eggs hatched, reproduced themselves, and made the furniture useless. She felt useless as well.
Mites nestled between the cracks like those dark thoughts in Jenny’s mind, regardless of parties, antidepressants, or blades. Surface treatments. The nightstand was rotten inside and lost its function, but no one got rid of it.
So Jenny ignited the lighter, then burned it to ashes.
Kind of chilling…like she’s contemplating doing the same thing to herself…
A fantastic piece, subtly packed with back story! I especially love the opening sentence to the 3rd para.