The Moth

31 degrees and not even a breeze to stir the leaves in the trees. The air is so still and thick with heat from the pavement that breathing is an effort. The apartment is an oven trapping in the heat without giving it any place to escape. Darkness enshrouds the city suffocating it, suffocating me. I fling open the doors of my balcony waiting for just that little bit of wind, but the air is sluggish and warm and discomforting. Nothing to do now but sleep. The heat makes me drowsy and the warm air coaxes me slowly into dreamland where I will dream of ice and snow. Then I hear it, in the darkness, a soft fluttering. The sound of something soft hitting against the walls. The heat has made me sluggish and I move not a muscle only listening now to the flutter of something against the walls of the apartment. Then I hear it louder this time, a 'tchi tchi' sound near my ear and then the feeling of something landing on my bare skin. The ticklish feel of feet walking slowly down my arm. Soft wings tap tap tap and I open my eyes to see a huge furry brown moth looking up at me with beady black eyes as if daring me to move or protest. I freeze instantly and the urge to shake it off becomes unbearable. I can feel it molesting me with its furry fat body, full or yellow pus and powder. I wait a second longer and then I shake my arm to dislodge it. As if sensing resistance, the moth clings on with its sticky feet. I can feel it wrap its wings around my arm to hold on so I grab the nearest magazine handy and sweep it off. It takes to the air and in the darkness I am blinded, uncertain of where it has gone with only my sense of hearing to guide me. I can hear it swooping down on me. I can hear it's powdery wings flapping near my head waiting to get caught in the tangles of my hair. I stiffle an urge to scream for fear of revealing my position to the invader. There is silence for a bit and then wings against my cheeks, it's a full frontal attack! I dive and run blindly into my room shutting the door behind me. I lie in bed, exhausted and unable to think. I drift slowly into dreamland only to be rudely awaken by a tickle near my ear. The wings flap and the sound is amplified tens and thousands of times. The first reaction of the hand moves to swipe at the tickle even before the brain can register the stupidity of the action.

The hand is successful and the flapping stops. The brain finally registers the results and the heart sinks in realisation. I make my way to the bathroom dreading the glare of light which would reveal the horrid remains of my attacker. Already a pungent odour is emitting from the remains. The light shows me fleaks of brown powder stuck onto my hair and some yellow pus-like substance on my ear. Looking down, I see the remains of a beady black eye and some part of the body. Every bit of my body shudders and tenses up as I run my fingers under the tap. I hastly strip and take a quick shower washing the insides of my ear making sure not to have any of the flimsy bits of wing washed down the ear canal and into my body. Like Lady Macbeth I scrub till my skin is raw and thus having satisfied with the results I head to be, but sleep was to ellude me like it did Lady Macbeth for each time I closed my eyes, the remains of the eye of the moth would appear unbidden in my mind and each time I turn my head, the pungent odour still lingers. Every strand of hair that flies across my face is another moth swooping in for the attack. My mind imagines the moth reassembling pieces of itself to come back for a second attack. I hear the constant fluttering fluttering of dry wispy wings and I am haunted by the image of a dozen moths invading my room.
Unable to return to my peaceful slumber I switch on the lights to find that I was not imagining anything at all. The room is full of them, all brown and furry fluttering around in a mad frenzy making all those noises and staring at me with their beady black eyes. I have no escape from them now and they will have me!

The men stand outside the room looking in, observing the strange behaviour of the girl within. Her repeated actions of washing and cleaning and then her mad frenzied ducking, diving and running as if being attacked by flying things. The scribble something in their files and move on.